Beyond the Veil
by UnknownRegion
Summary: Being an Unspeakable was a job where exercise and physical labor could be considered a minimal (non-existent). So, how the hell was he going to be a Hunter, whose job was to supposedly travel around the world, walking endlessly for days on end? What crappy luck does he fucking have? Let him stay in his dimly lit research lab, Tom! TMR/HP Slash
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: **Being an Unspeakable was a job where exercise and physical labor could be considered a minimal (non-existent). So, how the hell was he going to be a Hunter, whose job was to supposedly travel around the world, walking endlessly for days on end!? What crappy luck does he fucking have!? Let him stay in his dimly lit research lab, Tom! TMR/HP Slash

**Pairings: **Tom Riddle/Harry Potter

**Warning: **AU, Dimensional Traveling, Slash (this means homosexuality), Killings/Torture, Mentions of abuse, Mentions of pedophilia, Necromancer!Harry, Harry's crude language

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or Hunter X Hunter, obviously.

* * *

_Location: Ministry of Magic, Death Chamber_

The scribbling noises of a quill jotting down on a parchment were heard throughout the empty chamber as Harry continued to babble animatedly to himself. Quick quotes quills were useful like that (when not used by bloody Skeeter that is). He always had one with him in case he had a sudden bout of conception on what transpires inside of the Veil – and how to test those theories out.

Harry had always been interested about the Veil after his Godfather had been unceremoniously tossed inside during his fifth year. Serve that mutt right by the way, that fucker. He had celebrated for weeks at regaining his freedom. That manipulative Black bastard kept him on a leash, not even long enough for him to spend even five minutes in the _shower_ alone. Frankly, Harry abhorred how his Godfather's eyes would roam his nude body – as if undressing him with those grey eyes were not enough. Disturbing, but a normal occurrence nonetheless.

Forced with putting up with Purebloods on a daily basis throughout his childhood, he was sorted into Slytherin, and almost disowned by his own _father_ – the bigoted bastard. His mother, Lily Potter, died during childbirth and James had always blamed Harry for it. Yes, blame it all on the innocently cute baby you sickening man.

After a battle of wills (and broken vases), Harry was shipped off to his Godfather, one Sirius Orion Black, and had been practically eye-fucked by that pedophile upon sight. The inherited Black madness was definitely a frightening thing, but since Harry was partially a Black himself, he as well was subjected to this so called family madness.

Harry had always been a disturbing child. He was fascinated by death and usually, odd things would happen around him – much more unusual than your average magical child. The cottage James and he had lived in before he was theoretically disowned at the tender age of eleven, usually smelt of rotten flesh and death.

Their house elf would always apologize – a lot of self-inflicted burning on its part, much to Harry's secret delight – when they found a half-decaying animal running all around their manor on a nightly basis. With years of smelling the same thing, James had gotten used to the scent that he couldn't really differentiate between fresh air and rotten meat.

Sometimes young Harry would even pet dead animals whilst giggling madly to himself. James had almost tossed him into St. Mungos' mentally insane ward when the man had stumbled across that scene. _Almost_. He was thankful that James didn't want other Purebloods to point fingers at him. _Purebloods_ and their _reputations_.

During his fourth year, he found out that he was a natural Necromancer and tried his best to hide that fact. The Magical Communities were filled with prejudiced individuals and hated everything Dark, especially Necromancy. It was considered one of the darkest form of Magic, only second to Soul Magic.

At first he was scared – terrified actually, but it was clearly justified. Natural Necromancers were twice as deadly as taught Necromancers. One born every few centuries or so he had heard. Where he could raise the dead without chanting those long arse incantations, the latter could only raise a portion of what he could _and_ with those fucking weird arse chanting.

To put it simple, his kind was burnt to the stake. Not kissed – it was too _merciful_. The Communities wanted them to suffer and scream in agony whilst being barbequed alive.

After graduation, he applied for the job of Unspeakable – the cloaks were cool and mysterious in his eyes. He practically lived in his office. With his father's _tragic_ _accidental_ death, he was named Lord Potter and Lord Black – by Sirius's will. At least his sick fuck of a Godfather did a good thing in the end.

After only a few years, he was named the Head of Unspeakables (pulled some strings of course) and could do whatever the hell he wanted. It was a dream come true for him, even if it was shattered soon after thanks to the bloody Minister giving him the nightmare of all things; paperwork. His skin had turned deathly pale and he would always have to apply a sunscreen charm when going outdoors – usually a monthly occurrence thanks to a certain someone. He was more prone to sunburn than before and it irked him to no end. He had literally screamed bloody murder and tried to claw his eyes out just a few days ago when the Senior Undersecretary had dragged him out of his barely lit office and into the man's sunlight filled workplace – without his cloak. It was torture. Pure torture.

"Harry." A man's voice purred from behind of him, hot air tickled the shell of his ear.

Speak of the devil and he shall arrive. Fuck his life. The only reason as to why he gave the Undersecretary so much leeway was because the man knew his most guarded secret. Oh how he loathes this arrogant spawn of Satan.

"Tom." He gritted out and turned with a twitchy smile (more like a grimace actually). "We just went for lunch a couple of days ago... Surely you don't miss my company that much."

The man in front of him was tall, with Harry barely reaching up to his shoulders. He has a head full of dark hair, reaching just past his chin and combed to one side. He has one of the most gorgeous faces ever to be seen (according to the Witches' Weekly), with high cheekbones, a strong jawline, straight nose, and thin reddish lips that usually curled into an amused smirk – Harry was _always_ tempted to wipe that bloody smug look off the man's face. But Tom's most attractive features were those crimson eyes of his. They glow with power, so much that even Squibs and Muggles were enticed by those orbs.

"On the contraire, your company is worth much more than those incompetent boot lickers that dare call themselves my subordinates, little one." Tom was smirking at him, and as usual, mocking his inherited height from his mother's side of the genepool.

"Who the fuck are you calling short!? You're just abnormally tall, you half-giant!" He growled out. His height was something of a touchy subject and his subordinates had learnt that the hard way on their first day. Harry was usually in control of his emotions, but his (not) friend has an unnatural way of smashing his restrains away with only a few chosen words.

"Forget it, what the hell do you want?" He snapped rudely with a deadpan as he crossed his arms petulantly.

"Just checking if you're still alive, Harry. You're worse than Severus – and he's called a dungeon bat for a reason."

"As you can perfectly see, I'm still breathing. Now be gone, heathen, and let me work in fucking peace."

With that, he turned around and promptly ignored his not-friend of nearly two decades. He had met Tom when he was barely higher than the man's waist (7), attending one of those stuck up prat's birthday parties. Lucy Malfoy or something was his name, and Harry couldn't care less what that blonde-brat was called. He was spoilt rotten by his family and the only thing that comes out from those sneering lips was usually _'My father will hear about this!'_

That blonde-brat was lucky that Tom didn't go Voldemort on his arse, all thanks to daddy dearest of course – Abraxas was Voldemort's right hand. Yes, he also learnt his not-friend was a fearsome Dark Lord in his spare time (he was running away from paperwork and thought it would be a _great_ idea to crash uninvited at Tom's Manor), one that many dare not speak his name. It was ridiculous and Harry was always unable to contain a rude snort when he heard someone whispering about _You-Know-Who _or _He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. _Ridiculous hyphenated names. Harry somewhat pitied Neville, the Boy-Who-Lived, a twenty year old man with the title of a BOY. Pfft.

Many were unaware that a prophecy was made, but Voldemort's spy somehow got wind of it. That resulted in Alice and Frank Longbottom's death. Voldemort only found out three sentences before he raged through their wards like hot knife to butter. A Gryffindor move that Harry constantly rubbed into Tom's face every time his not-friend had pissed him off (though he had to run away the minute Tom became trigger happy). Neville was declared the Boy-Who-Lived when he survived and rebounded the killing curse back at its caster, and Voldemort was lucky that he had rolled out of the way (no matter how undignified it sounded) and escaped with his life intact before Albus and his group came.

Albus had thought that Neville was holding onto a portion of Voldemort soul, a human Horcrux if you will, but he was dead wrong – according to Tom himself since The Killing Curse left the caster's Magical residue behind. Tom had explained to him (after he was forced to swore an oath without any type of loopholes) that too many Horcrux could lead to insanity and he only made one to preserve his youthful, un-aging looks and health. He was immortal but could still be killed (and brought back to life).

The only person whom connected Tom Marvolo Riddle, the charming and charismatic Senior Undersecretary of the Ministry of Magic, to Lord Voldemort, currently the most feared Dark Lord in five centuries, was Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter. Even his not-friend's minions had no idea. The bald nose-less scaly version of Tom looked nothing like the man standing behind of him. Tom had explained to him (with a deadly glare when Harry had called him ugly) that he had used a parseltongue glamour on himself. Tom was rather irritated about Harry's non-stop questions as to how it felt without a nose. That encounter still brought a grimace onto his face.

Harry had once attended one of Tom's Death Eater meetings before. It was tedious and filled with tons of Crucios. He had actually yawned the whole time, whilst those minions looked at him with fearful eyes. They had thought that he would get crucioed for his rudeness, but Tom had only turned to him and shook his head with a carefully concealed sigh.

He didn't know why Tom was so lenient with him, but Tom trusted him enough to give him a treasured heirloom – Slytherin's Locket. Due to him being a Necromancer – one of the best actually – he could feel that the locket contained a portion of Tom's soul. He had yelped and attempted to tear it off of him… but alas, Tom made it so only that git was the only one able to. So now, he was stuck with a piece of Tom's soul around his neck. _Forever_. Tom had then droned on and on about how Harry would be the one to revive him if his body was destroyed. He of course pretended to listen whilst sleeping with his eyes opened. Tom hadn't liked that one bit. Harry could still feel the phantom pain radiating from his noggin. Never would he underestimate Tom's physical strength ever again, despite the wizard's age.

_Forever_ wasn't due to his teenage's body angst by the way. He was literally going to live forever unless someone destroyed his Heart – which Tom has on his person at all times. His heart was hidden at the most dangerous, yet safest place in the whole world. Tom was literally the strongest Wizard of their time, even if he's a ninety something year old man (how old was Tom anyway?), and the only way to destroy Harry was to kill Tom and rip apart his friend's body to locate Harry's Heart.

He was so advanced in the art of Necromancy that he had created a (now illegal) ritual that transferred his Life Force filled (still beating) Heart into a ruby gemstone made from his blood. It was unbreakable and only Basilisk venom would be able to melt the outer layer of the gem, allowing the person to stab his heart – and thus killing him. It was dangerous for Tom to hold onto it since his friend was a parseltongue but he had no choice in that matter. Tom had literally found it when he had foolishly misplaced his bloody gemstone. It was mortifying when Tom teased him endlessly for months due to that incident. Bloody arrogant git.

"Heathen? That's not a nice thing to say to your _one_ and _only_ friend, precious." Tom purred and he flinched at the hot breath near his ear.

"How bloody arrogant of you to assume I have no other friends, you Neanderthal."

"Name them then."

Harry opened his mouth to answer, only to pause. The only people he (reluctantly) talked to were his subordinates (because of work), the Minister (asking permission for new inventions), and Tom (mostly forced into having lunch with him). He was anti-social and hated human interaction – main reason why he was currently working as an Unspeakable. Tom called him a sociopath once, but he denied it of course. He was mentally healthy.

Tom chuckled and he scowled at the taller wizard. He was just about to retort when out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a familiar green light heading their way. Harry was quick to pull his friend behind of him, and gasped when the Killing Curse hit him firmly on his chest. It was lucky he couldn't die – but it hurt like a bitch on steroids!

Tom caught his limp body and he inward grimaced at the feeling of his lungs constricting. He couldn't breathe and his arms felt too weak to claw at his throat. He heard voices, and looked up to find Albus, with his Order of bloody Headless Turkeys pointing their wands at them – they were surrounded as well. They looked at him with fear in their eyes and he hid a snort. They should be fearing Tom instead, not him. Especially after shooting the killing curse at them.

His friend held Harry close to his chest and few moments later, Harry recovered and turned to glare at his former Headmaster.

"Are you well enough to stand, Harry?" Was whispered into his ear and he nodded jerkily. Tom helped steady him, and without a second thought, he pushed his friend behind of him. He knew that Tom disliked using him as a meat shield, but he was literally unable to die – unless destroying his body counts… But hell, he could get a new one! He always wanted to inhabit a taller, more masculine body.

"Headmaster." He greeted with his usual flat tone.

"That was… Harry… What will James think if you sided with that madman?" Albus gave him that disappointed grandfatherly look that many children fall for. Sadly, he would rather toss himself into the Veil then let James' judgement cloud him.

"Madman, Headmaster? Tom holds the second _most highest_ position in the British Wizarding Community and you dare call him a madman? You could lose your job, Headmaster, with only a few words."

"My boy, the man you're defending is none other than Voldemort himself." Many of the Headless Turkeys had flinched (including the beloved Boy-Who-Lived) when the old man spoke of Tom's alter ego's name. Neanderthals the lot of them.

"Accusing the Senior Undersecretary of being a Dark Lord without proof? Shame on you, Headmaster." He chided, though his tone remained eerily monotonous.

"I do have proof, child." Albus raised his wand and spelled out _Tom Marvolo Riddle_, before he rearranged them into _I am Lord Voldemort_. Why must Tom base his alter ego's name with his public face? Oh right, his not-friend was still young when Voldemort was created.

"That proves nothing other than the fact that the Dark Lord has a feud with Tom."

The old man shook his head sadly and looked at him with those damnable twinkly eyes.

"He has corrupted you, dear boy. James would be devastated."

"My dear father was already devastated. The look in his eyes when I ripped his chest open was simply amazing." Of course Harry didn't say that out loud, he just shrugged his shoulders and whispered it under his breath, oblivious that Tom had performed illegal permanent rituals on himself to improve all of his senses.

"Enough, Albus." Tom's voice was hard, and everyone's attention was turned to him. "We shall take this to court –"

He was cut off when Albus gave some sort of signal and all the Turkeys shot spells – borderline Dark. He and Tom were back to back, fighting even at the odds. Two against a hundred (around there) was hardly fair. But heck, Tom could bloody take them all without a wand (disregard Albus) if he aimed to kill.

One after another, the bodies fell unconscious. The only reason as to why they didn't outright kill those arseholes was because of Tom's public face. He was someone important, and even in self-defense, no shee–… civilian would want a killer if they're in a position of power.

A long time had passed before the numbers were down to ten. Albus, without them both noticing, had slithered his way behind Tom and sent him flying towards the veil – that sneaky bastard! Harry's eyes were wide with horror and he was quick to latch onto his friend. Harry quickly embraced the body he was latching on whilst his mind was working at an abnormal rate.

He gave Tom a reassuring smile when his friend looked at him with panic in those beautiful crimson eyes – exactly the same shade as his gemstone. Tom had always been a softie when it came down to him, always wanting Harry to be safe and out of danger (one of the reasons as to why he couldn't attend a raid even though he was fucking strong with his beloved undead army). Harry closed his eyes with grim determination and focused on his Death Magic. Just as they were centimeters away from the veil, Harry enveloped them both in a cocoon of darkness, praying to Circe and Death that this would work. It was untested and he gritted his teeth when he felt them entering through the Veil. Crimson met emerald for a brief second before his friend fell into unconsciousness, unable to withstand the brunt force of the Veil's deathly aura.

* * *

**TBC.**

Age (Apparently, Magic slows down aging):  
Dumbledore – 200+ [appearing as a man in his seventies]  
Tom – 87 [appearing as a man in his mid-twenties]  
Hadrian – 40 [appearing as a late teen, or early twenties]  
Neville / Hermione / Ron / Draco / others from HP's original batch – 20

The age isn't really that important, but whatever.

I was inspired to write this story by Ramen God, **Trapped in Mirrors**. Let me know what you think about the starting of this fic, and no, I will not change the pairing of TMR/HP. I don't mind hetero for other characters, but I'm not changing the main pairing.

_**UnknownRegion**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Warning(s): **None for now

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or Hunter X Hunter, obviously.

* * *

Harry stared at the restaurant in front of him with dulled green eyes, wondering for the _nth_ time how he had been convinced to participate in this examination together with one Tom Marvolo Riddle. Or better yet, how Tom was able to convince him to venture outdoors. In the middle of the day. Under the burning hot sun.

He was already sweating buckets underneath his sun-proof hoodie. And no, it wasn't due to the sun thanks to the cooling charms he had placed onto his clothing. Rather, it was due to Tom's death glare. He swore that it could penetrate through his many layers of clothing. Those crimson red eyes of his companion were drilling holes into his back, daring him to try and escape. _Again_. For the _nth_ time.

He sighed in a resigned manner and thought back to the time they had landed in this dimension. Quite literally, he might add.

* * *

_Flashback _

_They landed in a hopeless tangle of limbs on a wet grassy surface, and Harry couldn't quite fight back the whimper that escaped him. His Magic was depleted, and bruises in the shape of hands were probably forming around his body and limbs. _

_He knew that the Veil was a gateway to other universes or dimensions, and only born Necromancers with shite loads of power could travel safely from one end to another. The Wizards and Witches that were not of his kind, or strong enough, would end up being trap in between the gates and unable to leave for eternity (unless someone destroys said gate; which is theoretically impossible). _

_Of course there were a lot of exits, however majority of them were not opened, and Harry's Magic was severely depleted as he fought hard to keep those unwanted souls from latching onto Tom's and his cores. It took him a long time, however his search for an opened exit bore fruit. _

_With Tom in mind, he shook his head to clear his raging thoughts, and pushed himself off of his companion's chest with shaky arms. Tom was unconscious and too pale for his liking. Harry ignored his surroundings in favor of casting a (rather weak) diagnosis spell on his not-friend. Everything was fine… except that his Magic was leaking out at an uncontrollable rate, borderline unhealthy and life threatening. _

_Harry scowled as he fumbled to open his friend's top, revealing Tom's toned chest and stomach. If Harry wasn't so worried, he would've been complaining about how many layers of suffocating clothing Tom had been wearing – unlike him who was wearing only his pajama pants underneath his customary Unspeakable cloak. _

_He focused on what was left of his Magic onto his hands and placed them on the torso below. They glowed green and he began the process of closing all the holes in Tom's core to prevent further leakage. It was a tedious process, one which requires a lot of his Magic – which he was sorely lacking at the moment. Fucking bloody souls! How dare they try to bury their way into his Heart guardian's core!_

_Harry knew that his forehead must be full of sweat right now. His limbs were shaking and he fought to even kneel upright beside of Tom. His eyes were dropping in exhaustion but he shook his head to focus. _

_A portion, not even a quarter, of the holes closed up, but his Magic was already running dry. He calculated that he would undoubtedly lose consciousness if he were to continue at this rate, seeing that his Magic was already wavering. He let out a shaky breath and placed his right hand on Tom's forehead. It was better to have Tom repair his own core since Hadrian was already on the verge of fainting. He quickly dived into Tom's mind and searched for his companion's conscious._

_Once he had found it, he pulled, albeit a little rougher than actually intended. Tom's eye flew wide open in pain and Harry sent him an unseen apologetic look. His vision blurred and he collapsed onto the ground beside his not-friend. He welcomed the darkness and closed his eyes to rest, knowing that Tom would somehow recover enough to drag them both to relative safety. _

_Flashback end_

* * *

When he had woken up from his _rest_, Tom had _kindly_ informed him that he had fallen into a Magical induced coma for three months. Tom had, thankfully and predictably, gathered all sorts of information regarding this dimension. He found out from his only companion that there were no such thing as Magic here, and they were both the only Magicals in existence. Tom wasn't all too pleased about being surrounded by Muggles, but at least there existed another type of humans that were different, yet alike to them.

Hunters, they were called.

These Hunters used Nen, or Mind Force. Nen is a technique used to manipulate Life energy, or Aura. Aura is produced by all living bodies since it is vital for survival, as to how humans require blood to survive. Aura is similar to Magic in that way. Magicals required Magic in their blood to survive, whilst humans here required Aura. Only Hunters are trained in using these Auras, giving them borderline supernatural powers.

He recalled that there are four major principles are –

He was suddenly brought out from his musings when Tom's voice penetrated through his thoughts. Anyone, even children with ADHD, would focus onto Tom's voice no matter what they were currently doing, since the man was too charismatic for his own good sometimes.

"Two steaks."

"How would you like that cooked?" The chef of the simple restaurant tilted his head to one side, a calculative glim entering his eyes as quick as it left.

"Slowly, rare." Tom replied smoothly, a polite smile that could charm anyone (except him, much to man's eternal frustration and Harry's amusement) already plastered onto his features.

What a dumb password, Harry though with a deadpan.

The chef nodded to them and one of his waitresses. The female led them towards a room at the back of the restaurant. As they both entered, the waitress whispered a soft _good luck_ and closed the door firmly behind them. He disregarded her shy and blushing exterior, already used to people of both genders lusting over Tom, and scanned their surroundings. Better to be prepared than caught off guard.

The room they were in consisted of a small round dining table and four wooden chairs. He was about to question what the hell they were doing here, but was beaten to it when the room groaned loudly and drifted downwards. As if they were on an elevator.

Tom leaned against one of the smooth walls and smirked at him, a glint entering those crimson orbs of his.

"What?" He spat out, though his tone remained indifferent. He idly wondered if had ever said something with scorn or excitement before, or at least without his usual monotone.

"Come now, Harry, don't deny that you're not as intrigued about the examination as I am."

"I would rather remain at our fucking temporary base, researching about ways for us to get the hell back _home_."

"Language, my dear. The Hunter license permits us to freely travel in all countries without any form of documentation." Seeing that Harry was still not convinced, Tom sighed in mock exasperation at his _inability_ to understand. "All information in this world will be accessible to Hunters – at a price of course. What better way for us to find a way back than to travel around, attaining confidential research papers whilst at it?"

"Ex-fucking-cuses. You're just curious about the exam. And what type of plebeians these Hunters are." He added the last one as an afterthought.

"Those are only a part of the reasons, my dear." Tom purred as he pushed himself off of the wall to approach Harry. "I never did say that the former was the only one. Don't go putting words in my mouth, though I would not mind other… things."

"My wand down your throat?" He rolled his eyes and casually ignored the way Tom was looming over him. Stupid height advantage only added into the intimidation factor – if he were any other person that is. He was already too used to Tom's casual discard of personal space.

Tom only chuckled and leaned against Harry, their chests touching. He grunted at the added weight, but made no move to push his companion off of him.

_Cling_

The sound of the room-elevator's buzz indicated their arrival, and interrupted Tom, making Harry snort when he heard the taller wizard clicked his tongue in displeasure, before pushing himself off of Harry.

B100 was clearly written above the two electronic sliding doors. It opened, revealing a dimly lit cavernous basement with only two lines of small red lights on either side of the walls, leading further into the depths of an underground tunnel.

The numerous wanna-be Hunters all turned to them, majority dismissing him in favor of glancing at the taller of the two. He felt his left eye twitching at the casual dismissal, even if he should already be used to it back at the Ministry – seeing that Tom was the Undersecretary whilst he was a mere Unspeakable. Not many knew of his position, talent, or power apart from Tom that is, so he settled to only muttering darkly under his breath, his tone still oddly flat. Luckily for them, he wasn't too fond of attention, if not he would already be on a murdering spree.

Majority of the applicants held their weapons proudly, as if to intimidate the others, whilst the rest had nothing on their person – or it was well hidden. Harry only shrugged it off and followed after Tom, who was making his way towards a green faced short man (who was thankfully shorter than Harry). He idly wondered how the bald shorty's face could be so green. Perhaps some kind of rare skin discoloration?

"Hello sirs. Please take this number, and be sure you pin this on your chest at all times." The green faced shorty said as he passed a circular badge to the both of them. "And be careful not to lose it."

Tom pinned the one he was given to his dark red vest, whilst those crimson orbs of his scanned the surrounding people currently inside the cavern. Harry glanced at his companion with a raised brow, before he shrugged, knowing that everything Tom did would have a reason.

He peaked at the badge he was given and pinned it dutifully onto his hoodie. Tom's number was 303, whilst Harry's was 304. He wondered how long until the start of the examination and once more, thought about an escape plan.

Tom suddenly turned to him with an evil eye.

"Do not shame me by failing yourself, Hari." There was a glint in those eyes, and Harry shivered at the mere idea of defying Tom when he was in _this_ mode – the Dark Lord mode, as Harry liked to put it.

"Of course, Tomu." He replied flatly, as if not affected by Tom's killing intent.

He soon found out after he travelled out, that English was not this Dimension's primary language (way to leave a bloke unprepared, Tom). Japanese was. They opted to pronounce their names as to how Japanese people do, as Harry was not a very creative person for names. Tom wanted to rename them by making an anagram; however, Harry had persuaded him otherwise. Took a long time, but he succeeded nevertheless.

"Yo, rookies!" They turned to a plump man, who was wearing an obvious fake smile, with a blue martial artist's uniform. He didn't look all too threatening (or a martial artists actually), but Harry had learnt not to judge a book by its cover at an early age. He was the primary example.

"Good afternoon." Tom greeted back politely whilst the man strode towards them.

"I'm Tonpa." The man – Tonpa – reached out for a handshake, which Tom reluctantly accepted. "Nice to meet you! You're first time here?"

"Tomu. A pleasure, Tonpa-san. Indeed, it is our first attempt." Wow. Never would've thought he would live to hear Tom being respectful to someone so obviously of _'low breeding'_, as Tom would eloquently put it.

Seeing Tonpa turn to him, Harry blinked and greeted monotonously.

"Hari." He wasn't one for pleasantries.

Tonpa turned back to Tom, deeming the taller wizard the more chattier (ha, if only he knew) of the two, and started to converse about the different people here. Tom took the chance to _interrogate_ Tonpa, not that the plump man know it, of all the information he knew, with charming words and smooth compliments. It made Harry sick, so he tuned them out.

He only caught on that Tonpa was on his thirty fifth attempts or something, before he turned towards where he heard soft hissing coming from a turban wearing bulky male in his forties or so. The man wore a purple scarf over his light blue robe, and Harry had to blink at the sight. Never would he thought to see another person apart from Tom and he, wear a robe in this dimension. Not that he was currently wearing a robe of course – it was too eye catching.

He would keep an eye on Bourbon, knowing that the snakes the man carries could be used as a source of information. Tom had always wanted a familiar, and since Harry also has a fondness of those legless reptiles (no thanks to Tom), he would attain a dangerously poisonous serpent no matter the costs – before December. This dimension was luckily filled with curious creatures, and magical reptiles back in their original dimension are able to instinctually feel where the more powerful serpents reside. Hopefully, the same could be said for the serpents here.

When Tonpa finally walked away, after giving Tom two cans of soda, Harry turned back to his companion.

"Well?" He questioned with a bored drawl, not at all different from his favorite Professor and Tom's spy.

Tom pulled him closer, so that Harry was leaning against Tom's chest, who was leaning against the wall. "The information provided was sufficient. Sadly for that ill-bred man, he is on borrowed time for even trying to poison us."

He was given one of the cans, and Harry hummed in amusement. Well, as amused as his usual monotonous tone was able to anyway. With a discreet flick of his wand, the can in his hold was scanned.

"Laxatives." He stated drily. "Not a fucking problem. I was getting damn thirsty anyway."

With that, he popped the can open and took a swig, much to Tonpa's glee and Tom's disapproving shake of the head. After a minute of nothing happening, he saw Tonpa's confused expression. He looked down on the plump man with his nose held high, and finished the can with a satisfied sigh.

"Much better. Deemed any of these plebeians worthy enough to keep an eye on?"

"We need not pay attention to Number 187, however his laptop may prove useful in the future. Be sure to ah, _lend_ it from him afterwards alright, my dear?" Harry blinked and turned to said number. Weak, was the first word that came into his mind. "I know that, precious." Stupid mind reader.

Tom hummed quietly in thought, those crimson eyes landing onto a man full of head pins and Mohawk blue hair.

"Number 301." He took a glance at said applicant.

"What a fucking weirdo."

"Says the person who can't withstand sunlight." Was Tom's dry reply, much to Harry's indignant. "Number 99 smells similar to him."

"From a Lord to a mutt. How the mighty have falle–" His right eye twitched when Tom burnt a layer of his skin on his right forearm. He grumbled. He knew a warning when given one.

"So we shall keep an eye on the brat as well." Finished Tom, as if he had not just burnt his companion's arm by a mere touch.

"Doesn't look like much though."

"You don't as well, my treasure. Lastly, keep an eye out for Number 44, Hisoka the _Magician_."

"Magician, you say?"

"Yess… magician."

The two turned to Number 44, Hisoka, before turning to one another with a shrewd look in their eyes. _Magician_, huh?

* * *

**TBC.**

I'm so glad that this idea of mine brings back positive feedbacks. I was so worried about it being a weird and all that… Thank you for leaving a review on your way out, and hopefully, you'll continue to do so in the future. I have an idea about Voldie and Harry's Nen powers, however I do not mind any suggestions. Though, you'll have to guess which category Harry and Tom fall into. Enhancer? Transmuter? Conjurer? Emitter? Manipulator? Specialist? What do you think? Leave a comment and tell me why you've decided on that particular answer!

_**UnknownRegion**_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Warning(s): **Different languages(?)

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or Hunter X Hunter, obviously.

"Hunter-verse language/Japanese"

"**English"**

_::Parseltongue::_

* * *

_Location: Underneath the restaurant_

He slumped down onto the wall near him, feeling bored and tired of standing for hours without end. Half a day, yes, half a fucking day, has passed by with him doing nothing but cursing Tom in his mind. His companion had decided that it was not important to inform him about there being a waiting period for the examination registration to close. Bloody great. Why could they not arrive at the very last possible minute? Well, Tom has a bloody stick in his arse for punctuality, that's why!

Oh how he loathed imitating a statue.

He tilted his head to the direction of the door, like everyone else, to judge the newcomer(s) that have just stepped out from the elevator-room. The first person was tall, wearing a dark blue business suit, black shoes, and a pair of teashade circular sunglasses. He was also holding onto a black and red briefcase. He has a head of spiky short black hair and large brown eyes. He looked to be older than Tom, appearance wise of course. Tom's ancient.

The second person to walk into the tunnel-cave has distinguished blonde hair with dark brown eyes (which looked red when the light hits them at the right angle; like a certain someone). He wore a blue tabard decorated orange colored hem, and a white full body training suit underneath, along with periwinkle Chinese style flats. He looked to be around his mid-teens. And very girly. Or perhaps (s)he was crossdressing as a guy?

The third and final person was a kid, who looked to be no older than twelve. His inky black hair was spiked with green at the tips, and has large hazel brown eyes. Harry could literally see the boy's nativity and innocence shining inside, which made him a perfect target for manipulation purposes. He wore an ugly (says the person who often than not wore pajamas) green jacket with reddish edges, covering a black tank top just peeking out from underneath, green shorts, and green laced boots. To put it simply, the boy's… really green. He luckily does not have green skin like that short bald man that they were currently taking their respective badges from. There was a fishing rod strapped to the kid's backpack and Harry wondered why the hell the boy even brought it with him. Harry doubted the exam consisted of fishing.

"See anyone of interest?" Tom's voice carried over to his ear, and he turned to face him.

"And where the hell have you been?" He asked with a bored drawl.

"Here and there."

Harry instantly became suspicious, before he shrugged it off and twirled a lock of hair around his finger. Perhaps he should've chanced it and apparated back to their temporary quarters whilst Tom had been missing previously.

"You've yet answered my question, Hari dear."

"No." He wanted (needed) to get out of this tunnel ASAP. Some of the men were already starting to reek of sweat, much to his disgust. Also, he thanked Circe that he had enchanted his clothing to be scent and smell free.

"You're more _pleasant_ than usual, my dear."

"Way to state the obvious, captain." He stated drily.

Tom only raised a brow at his attitude, already used to more of Harry's derogatory _petnames_.

"The exam will begin at any moment dearest. Just be patient."

He only grunted in acknowledgement. They both fell silent as they watched how Tonpa went over to the newcomers and gave the three of them each a can of soda. The all-green boy drank his without any signs distrust, before the liquid all but poured out of his mouth, similar to that of a waterfall. He felt more than saw Tom's grimace at the lack of etiquette the boy was displaying. Harry hummed thoughtfully. The kid _does_ have the air of a country bumpkin surrounding him.

"Also, whilst you were busy with brooding, Number 44 performed quite an intriguing _Magic trick_." That got his attention. "He made a man's arms disintegrate into beautiful flower petals. Quite a spectacular performance, if I do say so myself."

His mind worked over time as he tried to think up theories behind that particular trick. He succeeded in forming thirteen, before his mind halted as he stared at Tom as if his companion was an unusual breed of flobberworm.

"I'm hella more interested in the fact that you've just complimented someone without a fucking ulterior motive. Not something I've heard before. And damn, I've heard shite loads from you."

"Oh…? Are you, per chance, jealous?" Tom teased with a handsome smirk.

"I'm so jealous I'm dying from inattention." He rolled his eyes as he replied drily.

Just as Tom was about to reply (no doubt an innuendo of some kind), a man with lavender hair that split in the middle and curls at the end, opened a wall that led further into the basement-tunnel. He wore a dark coat and red tie. The most distinctive features of the man were his mustache and non-existent mouth.

Harry's Unspeakable instincts came back in full force, _needing_ to strap the man onto a metal table and see his anatomy. Thankfully for the person, Tom's grip on his forearm tightened considerably, and thus, making him snap out from his experimental daze. He sent a split second death glare at Tom, who only smiled innocently in return, and turned back to the no-mouth-man… Who was speaking. Without a mouth. How fascinating!

"I apologize for the wait. The entry period for the Hunter applications has now ended. Now, the exam can finally begin!" Everyone perked up; many of them could barely contain their show of excitement. "A final caution to those who are short on luck or ability, you could very well end up seriously injured or even dead. Those who accept the risks, please, follow me. Otherwise, please exit via the elevator behind of you."

Every single one of them stayed, the silence deafening to Harry's ears. He idly wondered if he should drink some Felix Felicis for more luck on his part.

"Very well. All 404 applicants will participate in Phase One." The examiner turned on his heel and marched off, weirdly he might add, further into the tunnel. Harry could even imagine the sound of a marching band playing as background music, making him deadpan at his own bored mind.

The walk was slow, thank Circe for small mercies, and he hummed lightly as he strode beside Tom. Tom on the other hand, was smirking in amusement down at him. It made him twitchy and, damn if he admitted it out loud, unnerved beyond hell.

As soon as he was about to snap at Tom, the examiner's paced started to hasten. His mind suddenly came up with the scenario of an endless walk-turn-run, making his pale complexion ashen. The First Phase is an endurance test!? No. Bloody. Way.

One look at Tom stated otherwise.

"You knew." He accused monotonously, a little out of breath. It has only been five minutes and he was already slowing down. He was an Unspeakable, not an Auror!

"Of course." Tom's smile was blinding, and he couldn't contain the horror on his face.

Tom wouldn't do this to him, right? Tom wasn't that sadistic… right?

… Oh who was he fucking kidding anyway!?

His companion kept up without any form of exertion, and Harry became _very_ aware that he was the only one slowing down. That bloody arsehole continued to stare at him, the smile not once dimming. Actually, it got all the more brighter.

Oh that bloody git!

"I neglected to introduce myself." The examiner suddenly said, bringing Harry out of his murderous thoughts about killing Tom – preferably with his bare hands. "I am Satotz, the examiner for Phase One. I shall be the one to lead you to the exam's Second Phase."

"Second Phase? What about the first?" A bald, ninja attired man, Number 294, asked.

"It has already commenced." The examinees murmured their confusions, which annoyed both Tom and Harry. It was kind of obvious that this was Phase One. "You must follow me to Phase Two. This is the exam's First Phase. I cannot tell you when or where we will arrive, however I need you to follow me."

The examiner unintentionally confirmed Harry's guess of an endurance test. Great.

"Tomu."

The man ignored him. Oh hell no.

"I'll fucking fail."

"I'm sure you'll think of something inside that genius mind of yours, Hari. You know that there isn't a place on Earth you may hide from me, yes?"

If that wasn't considered a threat, he would drink coke from his nose. He mentally whimpered at how sadistic his not-friend was currently being.

He did not like – he actually loathed – doing this, however because Tom was his Heart holder and could potentially make his life a living hell (quite literally), he would indulge the man with passing the Hunter exam. He summoned his Magic and induced it into his leg, upper body, and lung muscles, making them stronger and more durable to any form of physical work out. No doubt he would be having crams the moment he _turned off_ his Magic.

"Fine. I swear to Circe if this continues on for too long, you'll be giving me a bloody piggyback ride."

"It's practice, precious. You've been slacking off on training."

"A researcher has no need for physical exertion for fuck's sake."

"Normal researchers don't. You on the other hand, require overcoming your weakness sooner rather than later."

This time, he did not ignore his suspicions.

"Did you, per chance, see something?"

Tom only smiled brighter, face full of innocence, neither confirming nor denying him. One of the many reasons as to why he loathed conversing with Tom. The man would always speak in riddles, leaving Harry's questions unanswered. All for his own amusement apparently.

Number 99 suddenly passed by them, skating on a skateboard. Before Harry could even conjure his own set of wheels, Tom's smile turned menacing.

"Conjure a moveable object to carry you, and I'll be sure to burn all your research notes."

He did not whimper. At all.

* * *

When they finally arrived (gosh why was so it foggy!?), with him panting his lungs out, he saw the two youngest applicants butting heads, shouting that they were there first to arrive before the other. How… energetic… Harry bemoaned as he felt his aching bones and muscles protesting at even the slightest of movements, and made his way (rather jerkily) towards a boulder near him. With a lethargic sigh, he flopped down without an ounce of his usual grace.

Tom however, only chuckled at him. He glared at the fucking git, who had the gall to appear as if he had only taken a morning stroll at a park, not a full blown run for who knows how long. No wonder Tom was the Dark Lord renowned for his monstrous stamina. Voldemort, he had heard, could duel for hours on end – which was why the Light always lost.

Seeing that glowering at Tom would do him no good, he concentrated on getting his breath back, waiting for the other examinees to arrive. He sincerely hopes that they'll stay here for an hour or so.

Sadly, no-mouth-man only waited for another few more minutes before he closed the tunnel's exit (in front of a few people's face, which made Tom chuckle at their disbelieving and despaired expression). By then, the fog has already dissipated. He raised a brow at the area they had emerged into. It was some kind of forest, though he had a feeling that it was anything but peaceful. Perhaps it was similar to that of the Forbidden Forest back home?

"The Numere Wetlands, also known as Swindlers Swamp. We must cross these wetlands to reach Phase Two of the examination. This place is the home to many bizarre animals, many of them cunning, insatiable creatures who deceive humans and prey upon them. Be very careful, if you let them fool you… you're dead." No-mouth-man said, his moustache twitching at times. "Take care not to be surprised, and do your best to follow me."

The Hunter examinees narrowed their eyes, some shifted nervously at the mention of being eaten. Just as No-mouth-man turned on his heels to start walking, or marching actually, a voice yelled, making the examiner pause.

"Don't be fooled by him!" A beaten up man came from… somewhere, exclaiming that No-mouth-man was lying to them. He pointed a finger at No-mouth-man. "He's an imposter! He isn't the examiner! I'm the real one!"

The crowd had murmurings of "imposter?", which made Harry shake his head at their naivety. They actually called themselves grown men and women? Could they not think? Had the examiner not just warned them about forests' inhabitant's cunning and deceiving nature? Did those words enter one ear and exited the other? Salazar, save him from dunderheads. But at least this _drama_ has a silver lining. It brought him his much needed rest time.

"Look at this!" The fake-examiner struggled to say as he pulled No-mouth-man, monkey edition, from behind of him. The monkey even had a mouth! "It's a Man-Faced Ape, one of the creatures that dwell in the Numere Wetlands! Man-Faced Apes love the taste of fresh human flesh, however because of its long thin limbs, they are overall weak. That's why they disguise themselves as humans. They trick humans into following them into these wetlands, where they team up with other animals to kill and devour them!"

The applicants were all hesitant now, looking at No-mouth-man and the fake examiner with suspicion.

"He intends to trap every single applicant!"

There were murmurs of agreement that No-mouth-man didn't look at all like a human, with him having no mouth and all that. Harry already knew that the examiner was an alien, not human, so he wasn't fooled. However, he was still the examiner.

Whilst he was busy with thinking about the other's lack of cognitive ability, the sound of the fake examiner getting killed made him turn back into reality.

He blinked. There were three poker cards _imbued_ into the face of the fake examiner's, along with five bullet shaped holes at the man's torso. Holes that had his companion's Aura surrounding it. He glanced at Tom with a raised brow, who shrugged in return as if to say 'he was annoying'. Well, he always knew that his not-friend could never stand incompetent people – he was kind enough to _Crucio_ his followers, rather than maim or kill them. He was a merciful Lord after all.

The crowd became eerily silent as they stared, with wide eyes, at the corpse. Their (along with his) gazes landed onto a man wearing a jester-like costume, who was currently shuffling his deck of cards. It was the _Magician_ Tom and he were keeping their eyes on.

"I see, I see." Number 44 stated with a playful smirk and a smooth barritone. "That settles it then… You're the real one." Those yellow eyes brightened with pleasure, and Harry had to hold back a shiver from breaking out from his spine. Those eyes were incredibly beautiful. Noteworthy to even add to his collection of beautiful and unique things, which he might add, was left back in their original world.

The other applicants turned to the no-mouth-man when the examiner spoke, however Harry could only continue to gaze at Number 44. He tuned out everything else, and only focused at the self-proclaimed magician. Number 44 was tall, almost as tall as Harry's companion, with a light complexion and a fairly toned stature. Judging from the muscles on Number 44's biceps, the man could pack a hard punch. His attire (or cosplay costume) had various suit symbols on the front and back torso, however that wasn't what caught Harry's attention. It was the face paint. A maroon star teardrop on his left cheek, and a spring green star on his right cheek. They made the man appear more playful and brought out more of his features. Harry wondered if there were any significant meanings behind the man's face paint.

He was brought out from his observations by Tom, whose hand had tightened painfully on his shoulder.

"**Whilst I am pleased that you have taken my words into consideration, I do not take kindly to your disregarding of my presence, Harry. More so as you eye another male with such intensity."** The words did not match Tom's malicious expression. Luckily for Harry, it wasn't directed at him.

"**Tom…"** He started with an almost gentle tone (disregarding his monotone), and he could literally see Tom's eyes softening. **"Your glamour's down."** The softness was replaced by exasperation and disappointment, much to his confusion.

Whilst they were both busy with their respective thoughts, one thinking over of his previous words, whilst the other bemoaning the fact of his _future consort's_ obliviousness, they both missed the fact that another pair of disbelieving eyes were watching their interaction.

* * *

**TBC.**

Ah thanks so much for the awesome reviews guys! Only one of you got Tom's and Harry's Nen type right though.

Question for today:

Do you prefer Hisoka or Illumi?

_**UnknownRegion**_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Warning(s): **None for now

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or Hunter X Hunter, obviously.

"Hunter-verse language or Japanese"

"**English"**

_::Parseltongue::_

* * *

_Location: Numere Wetlands – First Phase of the Hunter examination_

Who ever said that running was a way to allow one's mind to wonder around mindlessly is a liar. A liar that should be incinerated and have his ashes thrown in the smelliest of swamps. There was _nothing_ relaxing about running around without a destination in mind. Well, of course the examiner has a destination in mind. But that wasn't the point! The point was that Harry was dying of exhaustion! The first phase of the Hunter examination was about endurance – both physical and mental.

Harry mentally sighed. Why mentally? Because he was too out of fucking breath to actually sigh properly! Even with the aid of his Magic, his lungs and legs were practically on fire. It hurt to even think about running for another minute.

To try and distract him from his nightmare of endless running, he turned to Tom… to only see air in his not-friend's place. A few seconds passed by with him trying to figure out the reason as to why his companion was missing. Another few to realize that he had been left behind by said companion.

_Breathe Harry, breathe_. That was the mantra for him not to lose his cool. Which, he might add, was not working quite as well as he was hoping for.

How dare Tom fucking Riddle abandon him!? What if Harry was eaten whilst that egoistical bastard was off doing who knows what!? Sure, he can't die because Tom's literally holding Harry's life in his hands, but that wasn't the bloody point! He didn't want (or need) any firsthand experience in being eaten or digested alive. He couldn't even decide if being chewed or swallowed whole was a better way to die!

Deciding that being eaten was a pathetic way to lose his life, he gathered his Magic, which was sluggish as hell, and forced them through the ground. Hopefully, there were bones underneath. Horse bones to be more specific. Does this world even have horses?

The first type of bones his Magic stumbled across was… some kind of turtle monkey hybrid. Or was it a turtle and monkey respectively that got their bones mixed up? He pushed the thought aside and sat down on the ground, cross legged. Whilst his Magic was spread and busy looking for a four legged animal he could ride on, he scanned his surroundings, noting that the fog was denser than earlier. If this continued, he would be lost. Luckily for Harry, he could somewhat (a very big somewhat) sense where his Heart was. He would just go in that general direction and hope that that was the finishing point of this bloody first test.

When his Magic finally found some horse bones, he forced himself to stand and walk to where the bones were deeply buried. If Harry wasn't so exhausted, he would've had noticed that there were no signs of wildlife anywhere near him, and would've been unnerved by the sheer silence surrounding him. But alas, he was thoroughly distracted by his not so good physical status at the moment.

After a torturous five minutes' walk, Harry found himself in the middle of a clearing. The clearing felt like home to him. The reason? Why, there are tons of corpses all over the area! A heavenly place for a Necromancer (technically he's a Lich, but who's to know?) such as him to be at. Harry literally skipped into the clearing, his exhaustion completely forgotten in favor of wanting to play with the bodies.

"You qualify as well~" He faulted at hearing someone already here. Actually, the suave baritone sounded very familiar. "Grow up and become a fine Hunter."

_Crack_.

Harry turned to look at the branch he had accidently stepped on. Well, there went his plan for a quick backtrack. He really hated humans – living humans if anyone wanted anything specific. He frowned slightly. Tom wasn't really considered a human in Harry's eyes. Humans don't go as far as to mutilate their soul on a whim of wanting to live for all eternity.

Perhaps that was the reason as to why Tom's Nen was so weird. Another person wouldn't have their Nen solely focused on se–

His thoughts were halted to a stop as he felt bloodlust aimed at his general direction. Actually, it was aimed at him. He turned away from the branch near his feet and onto the one giving off a dangerously huge amount of killing intent. It was the Magician he and Tom were interested in.

Said Magician was crouched down in front of the twelve year old green-boy with the fishing pole, who he might add, was panting with all his might. Harry's mind suddenly conjured an image of the Magician preying upon little boys.

"A pedo?" He accidently murmured his thoughts out. Welp, at least Number 44 was too far away to hear him. Right?

Right... Unluckily for Harry, the Magician-turned-pedo had excellent hearing, judging by the slight narrowing of those beautiful eyes. He probably wouldn't have spotted it if he wasn't not-friends with Tom for roughly three decades. He wasn't the one to keep track of their so called anniversaries. Hmm, on the topic of yearly anniversaries, Tom was such an arsehole during Harry's last birthday. He would've preferred to stay inside his workplace (gloriously dark), but that git decided that it was too gloomy and dragged his pale arse to a restaurant. An outdoors restaurant in fact. The horror!

Anyway, he got side tracked. Again. That bastard did say that he was someone who often than not would get distracted. Well, at least his creative mind allowed him to have the title of Head Unspeakable. He was quite proud of being one of the youngest – even though he pulled some strings to get promoted early. But hey, eighty percent of it was brutal dedication.

Eh, now was neither the time nor place to reminiscence about those glorious days of his. There was a far bigger issue to take into account. With that thought firmly in mind, his eyes sharpened and focused onto Number 44, Hisoka the Magician.

Everything was silent, and the second he saw the jester's lips parted, Harry readied himself. His paranoia and effort was wasted when the sound of a communication device was heard, interrupting whatever Number 44 wanted to say. The Magician just smiled and took out a very old fashioned walkie talkie.

"Hisoka," The voice pierced through the silence, and Harry marveled at the fact that there was someone else with a deadpan of a voice to match his. "you should get back here. It won't be long until they reach the second test center."

Hisoka brought the device near his lips, "Okay, I'll be right there." Was said with great reluctance.

The Magician then stood up, patted his clothes, and turned to the green-boy, who was still on the ground with a lost look on his face. It was kind of cute. And wow, he would never admit that out loud… or in his mind ever again. A certain git has a habit of mind raping (_"it's to check for any tempering, my dear") _Harry's mind without notice sometimes.

"It's always good to have friends." Really? The younger male[1] didn't look like the type to have any sort of friends. Well actually, he looked the type to have friends with benefits. "You can find your own way back, yes?"

The green-boy who Harry needed to know the name of only nodded dumbly, as if not believing that Hisoka would just leave him after… Harry didn't know what the heck happened before his arrival, but he didn't really care to find out.

"That's a good boy~" The smooth baritone was alluring, that much Harry was sure. Unbeknown to Hisoka, nobody had stayed alive after Harry had taken interest in them. Nobody. Tom was an exception, seeing that the man was somewhat immortal and not human in Harry's eyes.

With that, Number 44 walked away and into the forest. Harry's and greenboy's eyes never once left the Magician's departing silhouette. One more intense than the other.

"Hisoka…" The name rolled off huskily from Harry's pinkish lips. It felt right.

Hisoka the Magician. Oh, Harry _must_ have him! A greedy look entered his usual dull emerald green eyes, making them glow with _want – _and unbeknown to him, made him look far more alive (attractive) than ever. If anybody were to see his eyes now, they would've undoubtedly made themselves scarce immediately.

* * *

**TBC.**

[1] Remember that Harry's 40+ in my story.

Wao… An overwhelming victory to Hisoka. It's okay Illumi, I'll vote for you (even though Hisoka's my fav)! I thank you all for your awesome feedbacks and reviews (and for answering my question!).

**Hisoka: 14**  
**Illumi: 2 (+1 from me)**

To answer some of your questions; Tom's wearing a glamour over his eyes, making it more brown than red. Heart holder is basically that: A heart holder. Harry's heart has been removed from his body, and is now in Tom's possession. It's Harry's own unique way of immortality. Basically, he's a Leiche rather than a Necromancer.

Lich: a type of undead creature, often the result of a transformation when a powerful magician or king strive for eternal life, using spells or rituals to bind his intellect to an amulet or charm, and thereby achieving a form of immortality.

Alright, I kind of changed Harry's Nen type 'cause I've had a sudden idea that matches his undead status. So… Yeah, some of you actually got his current one correct. Bravo!

I know that its overkill since Harry and Tom already have Magic as a power source, but to be a Hunter, you have to have Nen. They _need_ to have nen to pass their real examination. To make up for their overly powered selves, I made it so that their Nen aren't as useful (or strong) as many others are. Well, all Nen are useful, just depending on the situation and how they're used.

**Question for today:**

What's your favourite Nen power?  
I personally prefer Kite's Crazy Slot.

_**UnknownRegion**_


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Warning(s): **Harry's hatred for the sun

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or Hunter X Hunter, obviously.

"Hunter-verse language/Japanese"

"**English"**

_::Parseltongue::_

* * *

_Location: Numere Wetlands – First Phase of the Hunter examination_

"Gon! Gon are you alright!?" Harry turned to a blonde teen that had run up to greenboy, now known as Gon, as he frantically patted down the poor boy, accessing for injuries.

"Un." The brat was still breathing heavily, adrenaline still coursing through his veins, as he replied somewhat shakily.

"You worried me."

"Sorry, Kurapika. I didn't mean to." How innocent. Harry idly wondered how long ago he had actually apologized sincerely to someone. His mind came up blank.

Blondie shook his head with a sigh. "We should g-… Who are you?" He startled at seeing Harry and questioned suspiciously.

"Someone who just so happens to be here at a bloody bad time." Now if they would leave… He has better things to do. Like reanimating the horse bones underneath them.

"Oh! Why don't we go together?" Gree-Gon stood up and was quick to latch onto Harry's arm, much to his annoyance. The boy didn't give him time to respond as he was dragged by a boy much younger and physically smaller (but stronger) than he, with Kurapika following after them, those eyes not once leaving Harry's person.

"Gon, I'm not sure if this is a good idea…" Good blondie. Tell the brat off!

"Relax Kurapika! He seems nice!" Harry and _nice_ wasn't supposed to be in the same sentence. Ever.

"How can you tell? He might try to remove some competition." Hello, he is right here and he can bloody hear you just fine.

"I'm a good judge of character!" Harry doubted it so fucking much. "I'm Gon. What's your name? How old are you? You look to be Kurapika's age. Why do you want to be a Hunter? I'm looking for my dad, Ging Freecss – have you seen him?"

He blinked at the barrage of questions. He has half the mind to wrench his arm from the boy's hold, the other half to incinerate Gon's hand. He settled for answering the questions with a flat tone. Better just go with the flow and hopefully they'll let him off soon enough.

"Hari. Old enough. Flattering. Forced. No."

He was forced to pick up the pace, much to his muscle's protest. He was already dying of exhaustion, and when a solution appeared, he was manhandled to keep up with an energetic brat. If Harry didn't know better, he would have thought that Gon was related to Tom. On a more innocent scale of course, but equally persistent. Why did he always get dragged by these types of people? Was he a magnet for stubborn and persistent people?

"You're not much of a talker are you?" Kurapika raised a fine brow as he ran at the other side of Gon.

Harry grunted. Oxygen. He needed to save oxygen – and talking would be counterproductive.

"Mito-san said that people who are usually silent are the _cool_ type. I agree with her." Gon had stars in his eyes as he glanced at Harry, who only deadpanned at the boy in return. Was this supposedly a case of hero worship, even though they only met like five minutes ago?

"If you say so, Gon." Kurapika chuckled a little before he scanned the area they were in, noting that Gon was moving to the right side of the split road. "Are you sure we're heading to the right direction?"

Gon raised his nose in the air and took a sniff, similar to that to a dog, and nodded confidently.

"Yup! Leorio's cologne is easily enough to recognize – I can smell him from a few kilometers away!"

Harry and Blondie traded dubious looks. Well, as dubious as Harry can, before the latter realized what he was doing, and glared as if it was Harry's fault. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He settled for an unimpressed look instead before he tuned the two out – though still kept an ear open just in case. There were more important things to do than to listen to their chatter, like breathing. Yeah, breathing. And running. More running.

He didn't know how long they had ran for, but when he finally had had enough, a demand to unhand him on the tip of his tongue, he heard Gon's question.

"I was so scared, I wanted to run away – but I couldn't. And at the same time I was really excited! Strange, ne?" The brat looked excited and worried at the same time.

Kurapika on the other hand, frowned and looked worried for some reason.

"Not really." Was said before he could stop himself. The boy – who was still holding his forearm – turned to him in shock. Perhaps he could enlighten Gon. This would be his good deed for today, he guessed. "It's just as Blondie has said – people are often than not, drawn to others with unique gifts. You're more attuned to your instincts as I have come to learn, thus making your excitement justified. You're satisfied that there exists a person out there that could challenge and at the same time, push you to improve. It's also justified that you would feel afraid, yet wanting more. Some humans prefer their veins pumped full of adrenaline, and the easiest solution is to do something borderline dangerous and insane in another person's eyes. So no, it's not strange to feel that way."

Harry was an adrenaline junkie back in his youth. So he knew. Gon only stared dumbly at him for a few seconds, before he seemed to register Harry's words. The brat gave him a grin so big, that he wondered if there was a chance of getting a split lip.

"Un! Thanks, Hari!" Was given cheerfully with an enlightened look in those brown eyes of his.

That baffled Harry. His heart – which wasn't really in his body – skipped a beat and he wondered at the sensation he was feeling. He felt warm, and a little lighter at having someone thank him so… earnestly. He violently pushed those feelings aside and shrugged his shoulders.

They all fell into a comfortable silence, and as they left the forests' treeline (the examiner and other examinee were standing in front of two giant iron gates with a huge X on it), Harry brutally wrenched his arm out from Gon's grasps and ran full speed back into the forest. The comfortable silence turned into a stunned one as the two stopped dead in their tracks.

"Hari…?" Gon peered back and blinked owlish at the sight.

Harry was, to put it bluntly, cowering away from the sunlight, mumbling about how evil the sun was and how it'll bring destruction to earth. Just as he was about to crawl (pride be damned) into a bush near him, a hand grabbed his shoulder. A familiar hand. Oh shite.

"Hari." Tom purred sadistically as he tugged at Harry's hoodie. "Let us not waste any more time. The first phase will be over soon."

That was the only warning he was given before he was dragged, kicking and screaming, out of the forest and his safe haven.

"NOOOOO! IT FUCKING BURNS! THE AGONY! IT HURTS! GAH!" He clawed the hand that was clamped on his hoodie as he was dragged under the burning hot sun. Tom, the bloody git, was humming a tune as he dragged his companion behind him, smiling all the way as he ignored the tortured screams. Harry only had enough strength to bring his hood up before he fell and curled into a ball, mentally cursing Tom with all his might.

"My goodness. You really are high maintenance, precious." He heard his not-friend's exasperated words before he was hauled up. He quickly buried himself into his companion's chest. An arm was then wrapped around him and not before long, he felt shade. He took a peek and sigh in relief at the opened umbrella in Tom's hold. Why the elder Wizard did not just give the umbrella to him before dragging him out was definitely because of Tom's sadistic streak.

The whole place was silent, and when Harry finally registered that, he wanted to bury himself. All the examinees, including the examiner, were staring at him with wide eyes – as if not believing that someone could actually fear the sunlight. Fools, the lot of them. One day the sun would incinerate them all and he would be the one having the last laugh.

"Hari? Are you alright?" The innocent question came from Gon, and the two Wizards turned to the boy. Tom may look friendly in the eyes of others, but Harry recognized the cold calculation in those glamored brown eyes.

"I'm fine." He drawled as if he had not just had a major freak out session. The Ministry staffs wouldn't have batted an eyelid over his display, seeing that that was the norm for him, but he was embarrassed at having his weakness displayed so openly. But no matter, even with his weakness revealed, he would still be able to kill anyone who would dare threaten him.

The boy nodded, though still looking worried, before he turned at Tom, his brown eyes showing unconcealed curiosity.

"Are you Hari's brother?" This made the two Wizards blink in unison.

"That's an insult to the highest of levels, Gon." Harry stated drily. Being told that his appearance was similar to this bastard was bloody insulting to Harry. Sure they looked kind of alike, what with their pale complexion, aristocratic and exotic features (that appeared foreign in this world), but that still did not make them relatives! Well, that wasn't actually the truth. Everyone was related to everyone in the Wizarding world – even Muggleborns! Seeing that they were born from Squibs.

"I am Hari's childhood friend, Tomu." Tom unwrapped his arm around Harry and offered it to Gon, who took it with a bright grin.

"I'm Gon! Nice to meet you, Tomu-san! Wow, I've always wanted a childhood friend – but I'm the only child at Whale Island." Tom's eyes sharpened at the information given, and Harry would've facepalmed at the blind trust the boy was emitting. Letting strangers know where you grow up at wasn't exactly smart.

"Oh? Whale Island's population must be small." Harry instantly became suspicious. What was Tom planning?

"Yeah! Most of them are old folk, so I can only play with the animals."

"It must be tough." Tom patted Gon's head with _sympathy_. "But I'm sure you'll make lots of friends here."

"Un! I already have. I'll introduce them to you!" He ran off into the crowd.

"And here I thought I would have to push you into making allies." Tom smiled politely at the other examinees, making them turn away with a blush on their cheeks (females), or shifting away from his friendly demeanor (males).

"He was fucking persistent." Harry defended himself.

"Of course, dearest."

"It's true, heathen."

"Mhm."

"You don't believe me, do you?"

"Of course I do."

"Your face states otherwise, you piece of diarrhea."

"My, how vulgar. Do you, perhaps, need some mouth wash?" He didn't get to reply as Tom grabbed his chin and tilted his head upwards, Tom's thumb brushing lightly against Harry's lower lip. "I would happily provide."

A throat was cleared rather awkwardly to gain their attention, and they both turned. Well, as much as he was able to with Tom's fingers still grasping his chin.

"Gon, who're these two weirdos?" A half-naked man in his late twenties asked rudely.

"This is Hari and Tomu-san." The boy gestured at them. Tom's smile widened, and Harry shivered at that expression. His companion was insulted by being called a weirdo – the half-naked man better have someone watch him whilst he slept.

"Ah! You're the one who was shouting over being burnt or something!" The man pointed his finger, quite rudely he might add, at Harry.

"Indeed he was." Tom cut in as he turned to face the man, releasing Harry's chin whilst at it. "Though you have us at a disadvantage."

"Huh? Oh! I'm Leorio." The newly named Leorio puffed his chest out as he grinned at the two of them.

"My name is Kurapika. It's a pleasure to meet your acquaintances." Good mannerism was always a great way in making Tom's first impression of a person heightened. Why, he still remembered how _well_-_mannered_ he was when he was first introduced to Tom. Ah, the good old days.

"Killua. So, why were you screaming?" The kid with the skateboard asked, those blue eyes shining with curiosity. He somehow reminded Harry of a cat. Strange.

Harry's mind made up at least twenty different responses, but before he could bullshit his way out of embarrassment, the examiner spoke, thankfully.

"Congratulations to those of you who managed to get out of the Marshes alive and well! Phase Two of the exam will occur here, in the Biska Forest Park. I shall take my leave now – I wish the best of luck to all of you."

As No mouth man walked out of the area, the gates opened noisily, drawing the attention back to them and away from the departing silhouette.

Harry however, was still able to sense no mouth man hiding up in the trees. Tom definitely did as well, judging by the subtle nod he received.

"Will all applicants who passed the First Phase please enter?" A feminine voice called out, making said applicants enter through the gates. Just as they passed, an animalistic growl was heard, making majority tense in preparation of an attack. "Oh, you hungry?"

"Starving!"

Harry blinked at the unusual duo. The woman has… teal (?) hair and was wearing clothes that left little to the imagination. He subtly scanned the male examinees' features and was not surprised to see some of them drooling at the sight she made, sitting on the sofa with her legs crossed almost seductively.

The man that had said he was starving was as huge, even bigger than that oaf Hagrid. He kind of looked similar to that to a pig in Harry's eyes. What with the upturned nose and chubby features.

"Welcome! I'm Menchi, the Second Phase examiner."

"And I'm Buhara – the same."

"Phase two will involve…" Menchi stood up with her hands on her waist. "Cooking!" She announced dramatically.

"C-cooking?" A bald ninja cosplayer stuttered out.

"Cooking!?" Another man with a blonde ponytail frowned. "We're here to take the Hunter examination – not cook!"

"That's right, you're taking the Hunter exams. Your challenge for the Second Phase is to produce a dish that will satisfy our palate." Menchi smirked.

"And why do we have to cook!?"

"Why? Because we are Gourmet Hunters." Menchi looked proud as she declared this, but the result of revealing her Hunter Class was the wrong choice. Majority of the examinees laughed loudly and mockingly.

"Man, what a letdown!"

"They're _gourmet_ Hunters."

"Hehehehe, gourmet, they said!"

Harry only shoved his hands into his pockets, bored. Tom on the other hand, continued to smile politely as he shifted slightly, one of his hands still holding onto the opened umbrella. His not-friend was getting impatient.

Menchi crossed her arms under her well-endowed lumps of fat that many call breasts, and waited patiently for the crowd to be finished.

"So, almighty Gourmet Hunters, what are we supposed to make?" One of the examinees snorted as he asked that, sarcasm thick in his voice.

Menchi looked all but pleased at the man's tone.

"The required ingredient is pork. You're free to use meat from any species of Biska Forest Pigs. You must then use the cooking facilities here to prepare the pork." The giant examiner gestured to the kitchen counters spread across the area. "And you only pass if we both find it delicious."

"And we will evaluate more than just the taste. Don't underestimate the intricacies of cooking. When we've both eaten our fill, the examination will end. Got it?"

"We get it. We get it." The rude ponytailed examinee said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Let's just start already."

"Then, the exam's Second Phase begins now!" Buhara thumped his stomach, emitting a gong noise, much to Harry amazement.

"Perhaps he has a gong in his stomach…?" He muttered under his breath. "Is that humanly possible…?"

"I doubt it." Tom stated drily as he turned on his heels, not bothering to run like the other examinees.

Harry quickly followed, not wanting his umbrella holder to leave without him. He had had enough of sunlight for today.

"Oi! The two with the umbrella." Said two turned and raised their brows in unison. "The exam will end once we're full."

"So we've heard." His companion's lips curled upwards, mockingly – if one were to know him well enough.

"It'll be best if you stop dilly dallying and move fast." Menchi warned as she crossed her left leg over the other.

"We shall take your words into consideration." Tom nodded and sauntered away, his pace still relaxed.

Once they were both far enough and away from the site, Tom turned to him, but continued walking towards a herd of giant carnivorous pigs. So… The two gourmet Hunters are passive cannibals (those pigs were chewing on _human_ bones, and damn, he could recognize a human bone from miles away)? Interesting.

"I doubt that anyone will pass – especially after insulting her career choice."

"Examiners are fair." He waved dismissively as he tapped his right feet twice.

"And this is why you should socialize more, dearest." Tom stopped a distance away and smirked. "Human emotions are beyond your comprehension, Lich."

"I don't want to fucking hear that from _you_ of all people, Dark Lord." A clawed skeletal hand bursts from within the ground near his right feet. "Weak point?"

"The forehead. I would advise you not to cook – lest you want to be charged for killing not only one, but two examiners."

"My cooking's more than acceptable." Harry pointed at the pig nearest to them. A blur of white flashed by him.

"Only because you eat food no normal humans would dare put in their mouth. I doubt anybody would survive after a sip of your specially made soup. Or rather, dendrobates are not meant to be ingredients."

"We have already established the fucking fact that humans are foolish creatures. Of course dendrobates are cooking ingredients." The pig dropped dead, and the others fled with distressed whimpers.

"Only you, Harry, only you." Tom shook his head. He then wandlessly and wordlessly casted a feather-light charm on their chosen pig. "We best be on our way."

_OOOO_

They were the first ones to arrive, and from Menchi's current expression, she was expecting them to be trampled rather than to bring back a gruesomely killed pig. Well, it wasn't his fault that his half arsed children were more prone to violence.

The pig that they dragged behind of them had had its snout ripped off and head twisted backwards. It was also hard to ignore the ribs that were poking out of the dead piggy – they looked to have been forced open.

They both went to a kitchen counter, with Tom preparing the utensils and fire, whilst Harry skinned and cleaned the pig. He would rather do this via Magic, but alas, Tom had prohibited him. Bloody great.

When he was done, Harry washed his hands and reached for his pouch, only to get his hand slapped away.

"We shan't be using your ingredients." Tom murmured as he cut the meat.

"It would bring more flavor." He tried.

"No, precious."

"Fine."

They both silently worked, with Tom preparing the meat, and Harry preparing the gravy. They were making beef pork. Tom, the hypocrite, was using his Magic to cut down the preparation time.

"One does not put castor seeds into gravy, previous."

… How did that bloody git know? With a huff, he popped the seed into his mouth and prepared the plates. Once his partner has placed a few slices of pork at each respective plates, he poured the gravy on them.

Harry took two out of the four plates, and went forward. He settled the plates on the table in front of the two examiners and took a step back.

"Roast pork with gravy." He mumbled around his seed.

"You prepared with someone." Menchi said with narrowed eyes.

"You didn't specifically say that we are not allowed to prepare using one pig, nor was it said that we are not allowed to partner up." Tom smoothly interjected himself into the conversation, a charming smile already plastered onto his face.

"Fair enough. I'll evaluate it." With a jerky nod, she cut a small piece and tentatively brought it to her lips. She hummed at the taste, but then shook her head and crossed her arms under her breasts – rather arrogantly he might add. This woman was getting to his nerves, but luckily for her, he wasn't one to actively kill someone out of sheer spite.

"It's undercooked." Really? Harry doubted it – Tom would not settle for anything, even food, if it was less than perfect. "It takes twenty five minutes to cook roast pork, but you only prepared it for ten."

"Are you confident of your taste buds, Miss Menchi?" Tom's smile widened.

"Of course." She puffed her chest out in pride.

"Then you should be able to taste that I have in fact, prepared it perfectly." Brown eyes flashed crimson for a second.

"I've counted the minutes, boy." She leaned forward with a scowl. "You've only prepared it for ten minutes, not enough for a properl –"

"He's right, Menchi." Buhara cut in as he munched on a slice. "It's cooked perfectly."

Menchi's left eye twitched. She then took out a white circular sign with an X in the middle. It was obvious that it meant she would not pass them. Buhara on the other hand, had an O in the middle.

"Prepare again." Menchi ordered and dismissed them with a wave of her hand.

His companion's smile showed teeth – which were not a good sign – as he nodded. They both returned to their kitchen counter.

"I told you so."

"… You're right. She is biased." Harry reluctantly agreed. They seated themselves on the stools provided and Tom brought out a fork to eat their left overs. "Do we take the exam for next year?"

"No." What? He looked at Tom with surprise, not quite believing that his companion would simply give up. It wasn't like him at all. "Don't worry, dearest. You'll see."

He grunted and yawned.

"Tired?" He grunted, again. His partner chuckled and pulled him so that Harry was sitting on his lap. "Sleep. I'll wake you once this is over."

Harry nodded and snuggled into the crook of his companion's neck. He felt Tom's lips on his forehead as the man wrapped his arms around Harry, and he idly wondered if this was normal between not-friends. He inwardly shrugged and closed his eyes – his exhaustion finally claiming him.

_OOOO_

"Wake for me, my precious." The warm breath on his ear made him shiver, and he reluctantly opened his eyes. "How was your nap?"

"Fine." He murmured. He was still tired, but at least he was able to rest for even a little bit. "The exam?"

"The chairman intervened and now everyone has a second chance." Was the smooth reply.

"Where are we?" He scanned the area they were in, noticing for the first time that this was not the place he had fallen asleep at. Another second until he noticed that he was being carried, bridal style. He struggled immediately. "Let me down."

He was placed gently on his feet, with Tom hovering him as if –

His knees buckled and luckily for him, Tom caught him before he was able to face plant. Well, fuck. His muscles – especially his legs – were spasming uncontrollably. This was definitely thanks to the bloody first phase. Great. Just great.

"I fucking ache all over." He complained in his usual flat way.

"This ravine has updrafts that help the hatched chicks to fly up to the web." The voice of an elderly man spoke from beside of him, making him turn to said elderly. He blinked, not knowing why an elderly person was taking the Hunters' exam.

The elderly appeared fragile and easily breakable, but Harry could feel the power the old man was hiding underneath his skin. He has a ponytail, long bushy eyebrows, a thick white beard with black tips, and stretched earlobes with two piercings on either side. He wore a traditional long sleeved (it passed his fingertips!) white male kimono with blue linings – like those Japanese in his original dimension – and a pair of wooden geta with one tooth. Harry wouldn't mind wearing what the old man was wearing – though he might add in a hood to protect his head.

As if knowing his thoughts, Tom gave him a disapproving look. He only shrugged in response. It looked like great protection from the sun.

Menchi landed just in front of the three with an egg in her right hand – much to Harry's confusion.

"There. Now I just need to boil the egg."

"Y-you have to be j-joking! No reasonable person would jump –" The person that had earlier mocked the examiners stuttered out fearfully, but his speech was interrupted by the sound of joy.

"Whoooooohoooo~" Harry recognized the voice to be Gon's.

He was baffled as to why Gon and friends had jumped down the cliff. They both walked to the edge, whilst the rest of the examinees followed Gon's example. Well, never be said that that boy does not have charisma.

"We have to get an egg." Tom helpfully supplied. His companion then made sure that Harry's hood was covering his head, before he made his umbrella vanish.

He quickly shoved his hands into his hoodie's pockets, not wanting them to be burnt by the evil sunrays.

"I prefer not jumping the fuck off a cliff to get one."

"Language." Was said idly as Tom tilted his head to the side. "We don't really have much of a choice, dearest. Now then, follow my lead, hm?"

With that, Tom gracefully leapt, hands still inside his pockets, and landed on a spidery net. Tom has always been graceful and has the balance of a cat's. How envious. With a few muttered curses, he followed after. He had always been a rather non athletic person, so he was lucky to even land on a web and not fall to his death.

They both crouched down and plucked an egg from the bundle. Now what?

"Now we wait." Has he ever said that he was thankful for Tom's mind reading ability? No? Because he wasn't. Fucking mind reader. "The little boy, Gon, was it?" He damn right already knew. As if Tom would forget a person's name that easily, especially if that certain someone was interesting. "When he jumps off, we follow. And if we are not caught by an updraft – well, we make our own."

Easy for the Dark Lord to say. Harry was an Unspeakable, not a Dark Lord with unlimited amount of spell knowledge. The bright side was that Harry couldn't die. Or was that a downside? He might develop a fear of heights if he were to fall to his supposed death.

"Now!" Gon shouted.

Harry sighed. It was now or never, he supposed. He jumped, much like all the others did. Luckily for them, there really was an updraft. Thank Circe for Gon's Mountain Child status! Or his abnormal sense of smell actually.

As they all landed back on the cliff, some falling on their backsides, Menchi ordered for them to boil their eggs – which they did. When their eggs were fully boiled, everyone took a bite of their respective eggs. It was damned good, but perhaps dipping it into a bowl of strychnine would be even better.

With that thought in mind, he took out a bottle of said liquid from his bottomless hoodie pockets.

"What's that?" He looked up from his strychnine covered egg and into Gon's honest brown eyes.

"Sauce." He flatly replied.

"Can I try som–"

"I advise you not, Gon." Tom stated drily as he quickly plucked the bottle, that was given by Harry, from Gon's left hand with gloved clad fingers. "And do wash your left hand – as soon as possible."

Gon only tilted his head to the side with childish curiosity.

"Y-you! Are you trying to poison him!?" The white haired brat, Killua, accused as he pointed a finger at Harry.

"Why the fuck would I want to poison him?"

"Language. Especially in front children." His companion looked at him with disapproving, yet amused eyes. His Heart holder then turned to Killua with an apologetic expression. Man, the Dark Lord sure was an excellent actor. "I apologize for my companion's actions. He has more of an… acquired taste, to put it simply."

Killua still looked doubtful, but nodded with his arms crossed.

"What is it anyway?" Gon asked as he stared at the innocent looking water bottle.

"Hari's personal sauce. Come, let us wash your hand before you obtain… food poisoning." That was putting it mildly.

As Tom and Gon walked off, he turned back to his strychnine covered egg and took a bite. He almost moaned at the taste. It was heaven. Killua looked disturbed, yet curious.

"Would you like to try some?" He asked reluctantly, though nobody could guess from his naturally flat tone.

The whitehead took a tentative bite, before he scrunched up his nose, much to Harry's amusement.

"Disgusting!"

"It's an acquired taste."

"Damn right it is!"

His lips curled upwards, just a tiny bit, as the boy chugged down a bottle of clear water. Harry would never admit that he found it cute that the boy resembles a kitten so much.

* * *

**OMAKE/EXTRA: Harry (7) and Tom's (54) first meeting**

Harry was bored. The reason? He was forced into attending a prat's birthday party. The Malfoy brat wasn't even in his age group, for Death's sake! Sure he has no right to call the teen a brat when he himself was only seven years old, but that prat really acted like a brat. Who the hell shouts–

"My father will hear about this!"

–that. Harry looked at the commotion with bored eyes as he took a sip of his pumpkin juice. Ugh. He needed some mouse blood with this shite. Who can enjoy such a disgusting, unflavoured drink such as this?

A hand suddenly grasped painfully on his shoulder. He showed no signs of discomfort, and only tilted his head upwards so that he was staring into his father's cold hazel eyes – those eyes that were frosty only to him, but softened when looking at others.

"Follow and do not shame me, Harry." His father stated with a sneer that was only seen by his son.

He only nodded dutifully, knowing that even if he refused, the man would manhandle him like any other time. Harry was then shoved forwards, the man not trusting Harry enough to leave his back unguarded.

He often would wonder why his father was so cautious of him. What can a seven year old do to a fully trained adult Wizard anyway?

They stopped near a tall man with dark neat hair, brown eyes, pale skin, and an aristocratic young face – perhaps in his early twenties. The Pureblood – for he could be none other than that – was holding a glass of wine in those slender long digits, and it made Harry curious if this person had played the piano before. The man wore a dark green robe, and even though Harry was young, he recognized the lustful stares the other adults were giving this man. It made Harry uncomfortable to be in this man's presence. He took note to avoid the Pureblood at all costs.

"Senior Undersecretary Riddle." His father greeted with a smile. Not a Pureblood then.

Riddle turned to them, his eyes flashing with an unknown emotion before smiling back at James. "Good evening, Head Auror Potter. Enjoying the party so far?"

James only shrugged.

"Acceptable. And you, Mr. Riddle?"

"Quite. Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Not at all. I was only introducing my son to you." James's smile turned colder as he pushed Harry forward none to gently.

Harry took it all in without a change of expression, his love – had it ever been love? – for his father literally non-existent. He cared not about the abuse he received at the hands of the man who sired him, both verbal and emotional. He was lucky that James has yet to raise his hands against Harry. _Yet_ was the keyword.

"This is Harry. Harry, this is Senior Undersecretary Tom Riddle." Definitely not a Pureblood. No Pureblood would name their son Tom. Well, his father did name him Harry. But James was an idiot.

"A pleasure to meet you acquaintance, Senior Undersecretary Riddle." He bowed slightly and greeted with indifference. He knew that his bow and tone of voice would be considered disrespectful, but that was how he was. The last time he showed emotion was… He could not quite remember, sadly. He was in the constant state of indifference, even though his longing for companionship and friends would come by once in a while – but not as much as when he was five.

James's lips twitched downwards, but he held his tongue. It wouldn't do to scold your child in public after all, his father had an image to uphold as Lord Potter.

"The pleasure is all mine, young Potter." Riddle smiled and held out his hand.

Harry only looked dully at the offered appendage, not knowing what to do. He had always been taught to never make skin contact with anybody – because he was bad luck, James had repeatedly said. He was bad luck enough to kill his mother during childbirth.

The man's arm fell limply back to his side as he gazed at Harry with an emotion Harry could not decipher, whilst James on the other hand, was mortified by Harry's lack of reaction and respect – conveniently forgetting that he was the one who taught his son to avoid contact with anybody.

"Mr. Riddle, I apologize for my son's disrespect–" James was quick to apologize, but Riddle waved it off.

"No harm done, Lord Potter. He is still but a young child, after all."

Harry's eyes narrowed slightly at being called a child. It offended him that this old man thought him to be oblivious and naïve.

"At least I am still able to learn, unlike old dogs that are full of hot air." He wanted to say that with venom, but his voice remained flat, much to his frustration.

James's eyes widened with horror whilst Riddle blinked owlish.

"I'm sorry?" Riddle probably meant that as 'pardon me, would you care to repeat that?', but Harry deliberately took the words in with a more literal meaning.

"You're forgiven, and see that you don't repeat the same mistake of calling another person such as I, a child." He turned on his heels and sent a glare – or what he assumed to be a glare, he never needed to glare before – at Riddle. "Though I doubt that I would even want the pleasure of meeting such a disgusting maggot such as yourself ever again."

With that, he sauntered away as if he had not insulted the second most politically powerful man in all of Britain, and the most powerful Dark Lord in all of history.

In the future, he would look back at this particular meeting, feeling satisfaction and not even an ounce of regret for all of his actions and words. Why? Because Tom took an interest in him immediately – thus leading him to interact more with Harry, and soon, they became… not-friends.

* * *

**TBC.**

Thank you all so much for your reviews and comments! I was very happy and motivated at receiving sentence long reviews. So yeah, this chapter's update is quite fast, hm? If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask via PM or review. I'll try to answer without giving any spoilers!

I'm sorry to say that no, there will not be a threesome relationship. I personally prefer two people being a couple, rather than adding another. Though I do admit that a threesome (without any romantic attachments) is hot.

I added in the Omake because I couldn't resist!

**Question for today:**

Which is your favourite Zoldyck? Why is that so?  
Mine's Zeno! He's the most '_hip'_ Zoldyck in my eyes. And yes, I quoted Maito Gai.

_**UnknownRegion**_


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Warning(s):** Tom's hate for Leorio, Harry's language

**Disclaimer:** I do not own HP or HxH, obviously

**[Unintentionally edited: 5 July 2016]**

* * *

Tom, though he mentally preferred to call himself Marvolo in the comfort of his own mind, rubbed the bridge of his nose in total exasperation as he tried (and obviously failed) to ward off an incoming headache away. He had only removed his eyes from Harry for only a second, just to scan the area, only for the brat to disappear on him.

He let out a soft sigh to show his irritation and turned on his heels, knowing that it was futile to search his companion out. They were currently at the top of Trick Tower with no hiding spots available, after all. Marvolo peered down from the edge of the circular roof, his mind automatically coming up with numerous ways of reaching the bottom with his Magic - teleportation being the primary solution (and mind you, that was different than apparation). He discarded all of those plans, however. Magic was his last resort, with the only exception being if either Harry or he were to be put in danger.

When he turned back, he immediately noticed that his competition had lessened. He narrowed his eyes and moved forward, this time, however, he made sure that his steps were audible. He moved leisurely until he heard a slight difference in his footsteps. They sounded hollow. Marvolo tilted his head slightly, and lightly tapped the floor he was standing on.

Unexpectedly, it gave way.

Thanks to his honed reflexes, however, he landed lightly on his feet, knees slightly bent to absorb the impact, and as he straightened, a small portion of his Magic had instantaneously let out a pulsed around him, looking for any signs of danger. It was a split second later that he registered four different human presences.

"Tomu-san!" The surprised voice of a young boy, whom Marvolo recognized as Gon, made him turn his head towards said presences.

"Oh him." That was the white haired boy, Killua, was it?

"Tch. One of the two weirdos. He'll definitely slow us down." Marvolo really wanted to smash the man's head. Repeatedly. For that sole purpose, he promised himself to memorize the adult - Leorio's - name and features.

"Gon-kun, Killua-kun, Kurapika-kun." He greeted the two pre-teens and one teenager - completely ignoring the adult - with a gentle smile playing across his lips. "What a lovely coincidence."

"Un! Now we can finally start!"

"Start?" Marvolo raised a brow in question, but he had already turned his head around to take in his surroundings. His eyes landed onto all the matching watches the group was wearing on their respective wrists. He doubted it was a new fashion trend, so... Teamplay to pass, perhaps? Not something he enjoyed or preferred, but for the sake of being a Hunter...

He clasped the metallic watch he was given by Gon around his right wrist. As soon as it was firmly around his wrist, the wall on his right opened up, revealing a metallic door with some writing on it, along with an O and X.

"I see. So a door appears once five people arrive and put on the stopwatches." Kurapika stated as the group made their way forward.

Way to state the obvious.

"At this door, select O to open, X not to open." The youngest of the five read out, which Marvolo inwardly thank. Sure, he had learned the language, but he wasn't yet proficient at it like these natives.

Harry would have a seizure if he heard Marvolo say that, and that would admittingly, make Marvolo very amused in return. Sometimes his companion forgets that Marvolo was not perfect - no human was.

"Forcing us to use majority rule already?"

Marvolo inwardly frowned. From Leorio's words of majority rule, he assumed that if three of them voted X, all of them would be unable to proceed. How troublesome. He swore to Circe if any one of them deliberately allowed him to lose the chance of being a Hunter, he would skin them alive - child or not.

Everyone brought their hands up and press a button on their respective watches. The number 5 appeared beside the O, whilst the number 0 appeared next to the X. The door slid opened with no problem.

"That was easy. Let's go already!" Leorio shouted with a child-like grin as he rushed forward. Marvolo saw from the corner of his eyes how the others (Killua and Kurapika to be more specific) sighed at the man's childishness and rash actions.

It was not long before they reached another question. The loud mouth of an adult complained a lot when his answer was not the majority. Marvolo just knew this stage would prove to be annoying.

He held back the urge to sneer and only smiled politely, explaining to the imbecile how studies indicated that people would usually turn left when lost or stuck at forks, so it would be safer if they were to choose the opposite. Although, in the safety of his mind, he chose to turn right because he disliked being predictable - which made him, even more, predictable if one were to know him well enough.

Kurapika and Killua agreed with him, thankfully, whilst Gon only shrugged. Marvolo patted the boy's head (the hair was surprisingly soft), knowing that Gon was still young. He had room to grow, unlike Leorio.

The group was quiet apart from Gon, who was by Marvolo's side, chatting randomly, and unknowingly, giving away much information about himself. As he hummed and nodded at appropriate times to show that he was listening, Marvolo guessed that the boy was an Enhancer by his personality.

Although most of the time he got that right, he wasn't one to base a whole puzzle from merely a few pieces. He would wait, and soon enough, he would subtly put Gon for further testing.

He had created quite a few number of methods to determine a person's Nen type. Now, however, was not the time to put them to test. He needed materials. Materials that are not found at this... building(?).

They all stopped, soon enough, when there was no more footing in front of them. What looked to be a boxing ring with no ropes was in the middle, and Marvolo suddenly had a feeling that they would have to fight their way through. And by majority rule, three of them would have to win.

How _lovely_. He had zero confidence in 3 of his so-called teammates. Where was Harry when you need him?

"Look over there." Killua said as he pointed his chin forward. "It seems the welcoming party is here to greet us."

Everyone, including Marvolo, turned to look. There, standing on the opposite side, were five people garbed in dirt covered brown cloaks. Their faces were shadowed, and there were shackles on their wrists.

Were they prisoners? Battle slaves? Pets? Debtors? Hostages of war?

"The applicants have arrived. Remove the shackles." A muscular voice demanded, and soon one of the five had their shackles removed. The man rubbed his wrists as he spoke. "Geez, I'm finally free."

The cloak was then thrown over the man's head as he moved forward, revealing a bald, and very buffed man. He was also scarred. And talk about hideous.

... Dear Salazar, Harry's blunt honesty has infected him!

Luckily for Marvolo's sanity, the speakers blared to life.

"Allow me to explain, gentlemen. Before you are some of Trick Tower's prisoners." Knew it. "The Hunter Exams Committee has also officially hired them as examiners. You will be fighting against five of them. The fights will be one-on-one. Each person may only fight once. You are free to use any method you like. There will be no draws. A win is declared when the opponent admits defeat."

Marvolo narrowed his eyes. Only when an opponent admits their defeat? That means no knockouts or kills if it were not a deathmatch, then.

"Pick your order. It's majority rule!" The prisoner said with a smug look on his face. "Secure three wins and you may pass. The rules are simple."

Sometimes he hated being right. He knew that he would undoubtedly win, however, Marvolo was not confident about his so-called teammates. Killua, perhaps, since he has an air of danger around him, but the others... not so much.

"Majority rule again?" Of course, you imbecile. Their stage was called Majority Rule for a reason.

"However, the actual fights will not be quite so simple." The man behind the speaker announced. "The prisoner's sentences will be reduced by one year for every hour they delay the applicants here - in other words, their goal is also to buy time."

"Beneficial for them, but not for us." Marvolo murmured, attracting his teammates' attention. "We have only 72 hours remaining, so time will be crucial during these fights. I propose that we take them down as fast as possible... And try to avoid having your throats damaged by any attacks."

"Huh? What does that have anything to do with this?"

Marvolo would've facepalm at the idiotic question. Was Leorio really an adult?

"To prolong their time. It would be in their favor to damage our vocal cords so that we would be unable to surrender. Or tear out our tongues - or even both. To put it bluntly, they would have fun torturing any of us for 72hours if we are not careful."

Leorio shivered, his face pale, whilst Killua nodded his agreement. Gon only blinked owlishly before he tapped his chin in thought. The last our his group, the blonde, looked sick, but grudgingly agreed with Marvolo as well.

"Alright, I'm up first." The bald prisoner suddenly spoke up. "Choose your combatant!"

"So what should we do? He said we can fight with any method. That means anything goes." Killua said as he looked at his teammates.

"We don't know what they'll try to pull..." Leorio gritted his teeth, his fists clenched. "If they have hidden weapons or a trick up their sleeves..."

"There's too much at stake without knowing, but if we take too much time deciding, we'll be at a disadvantage." Kurapika continued. "I'll go."

Marvolo's hand suddenly shot up, halting the blonde in his tracks.

"Allow me." He smiled as he gently pulled the blonde back and took a step forward.

"Tomu-san? Are you sure?" Gon asked with worry shining in those brown orbs of his.

Really, he may look like a salaryman but Marvolo was everything a salaryman was not.

"Have some faith, boya." He patted the boy's head (he could get used to that) before he resumed his confident strides along the newly presented path.

When he and the prisoner stood directly opposite of each other in the ring, his eyes glinted and his smile sharpened, unseen by his temporary teammates or the prisoners.

"Now, let us determine the method of combat." The baldy (Merlin, you've really infected me, Harry!) paused almost dramatically before he continued. "I propose a death match."

At that moment, Marvolo felt his blood sing. A death match? Splendid! Just what he needed to vent his frustrations.

* * *

**_Harry's POV_**

Harry cursed up a storm as he landed on his bottom. What kind of floor gives way when a person walks on them!? The fucking creator of this bloody tower had better be in hell right now or so help him when Harry gets his hands on that unlucky bastard.

Whilst he muttered curses under his breath, Harry failed to notice that he was being watched and assessed by a glasses wearing shorty eating biscuits somewhere in the tower - monitoring him via hidden cameras.

"HEY! Hey, you. Get up already!" An annoyingly arrogant voice sounded from behind of him.

Oh, Salazar. Please spare him the bullshits of this world. At least, for the love of Death, allow him a moment of alone time if he were to be stuck here without Tom fucking Riddle.

Harry's head turned slowly, almost robotically, towards the direction of the clicking noises. Much to his distaste, the participant currently staring at him was a fucking creepy looking man with a weird arse mustache/eyebrow combination. There was an air of self-importance around the man, but since Tom didn't single him out during their waiting period, the creep was definitely an unimportant person.

Great. Just his fucking luck to be stuck here with an insane stick up their arse person.

Harry took his time in getting himself up to his feet, during his cloak whilst keeping an eye on the very suspicious man. If that sudden sneer of his wasn't suspicious, Harry would dance around in the sunlight. Sans clothes.

Insert shudder here.

The Creep - as Harry has officially dubbed the applicant - tilted his chin upwards in an overly arrogant kind of manner that reminded Harry much of those bloody Purebloods back at home, those beady eyes slowly tracing hs body. Somehow, he felt that he was in some kind of danger. Not exactly life-threatening, but scary in its own way.

Tom... He suddenly missed that bastard of an old man.

At that somewhat surprising mental exclamation, Harry reflected back to all the times where he was forced out of his lair and into the killer rays of doom normal people called sunlight. Of all the times he was hexed because Tom was bored. Of all the times Tom thought it was funny to add in artificial rays of sunlight in Harry's office just because. Of all the times Harry was left gasping for breath because Tom thought it would be comical to make him run laps around the ministry building. Of that one time, Tom thought it would be amusing to have a swear jar on Harry's desk.

...

..

.

Nope, he took it back. Tom could go rot in a smelly, unwashed toilet cubicle for all Harry fucking cared. Anyone was better than that ponce of a Dark Lord.

* * *

_Splat!_

The sound of someone's shoe stepping on an insect full of fluid sounded, much to the person's disgust. Great, now his shoe was sullied. The shoe will forever be a bachelor now... It won't ever be able to marry... Or rather, it would be burnt after he was out of this bloody fucking tower!

Harry shot the dead bug a dirty look as he scraped the soles of his boots on the ground, not minding that he was yet again delaying his partner and himself.

His temporary ally, The Creep, paused and waited for Harry to finish, a somewhat impatience air coming out from him even though he was still wearing that weird creepy smile. Some might be wondering why in the name of all that is unholy was The Creep waiting for Harry. Well, the answer was quite simple.

Two. Man. Team.

If that wasn't enough of an answer, he supposes he could explain more to all the dunderheads out there, since he was now too busy sulking about his boot to move.

Before the Creep had intruded upon Harry's personal space (and oh boy, someone had been this close to losing their hands), an arrogant voice announced via the speaker that they were now a two-man team, and if one of them dies, the other fails as well.

That means, in order for him to pass, both of them had to be alive. So nope, Harry could not just bloody eliminate the Creep without performing exam-suicide. Was that even a word? Well, who the fuck cares. It now bloody was a word in Harry's dictionary.

But he digressed.

The point was that they both had to somehow be together, so if Harry stopped, The Creep had to bloody stop alongside with him. And really, it wasn't Harry's fault that he had to pause in their journey every few minutes because he was tired and out of breath.

The Creep was no Tom, so why should Harry give it his all? Unspeakables were not made for physical exertion dammit!

No, wait... This stage has a time limit - around 70 hours if Harry was not wrong. What if Harry came in too late for Tom's stupid over the top standards?

Harry suddenly shivered, and mind, it was definitely not due to the cold.

Fine! He would finish this before a day has passed. That meant... well shit. This wasn't the time to fucking rest! He glared at his feet before he marched forward with resigned determination.

His temporary ally seemed to have caught on that he had finally gotten serious since The Creep had increased their already fast pace. Talk about an anxious person. Jeez.

Their first obstacle came in the form of two huge men wearing a brown cloak covering them from head to toe. Harry threw the men a jealous glare from within the shadows of his hood since Harry's own brown cloak had been held hostage by Tom. Currently, he was wearing his black Unspeakable cloak with its hood up, and if anyone was wondering, the brown cloak was his nightwear cloak. It was a billion times more comfortable than his work cloak.

Static was heard coming from the speaker, just before the arrogant voice spoke once more.

"Allow me to explain your first obstacle, gentlemen. Before you are two of Trick Tower's many inmates. The Hunter Exams Committee has also officially hired them as examiners. You will be fighting against them. The fights can be one-on-one, or they can be fought together. You are free to use any method you like. There will be no draws. A win is declared when the opponent admits defeat or is unable to admit at all. To proceed, you will need to defeat both of the inmates standing before you."

The static disappeared along with the voice. The silence was soon disturbed by shackles falling to the ground, and cloaks being discarded without care. Blasphemy against the God of Cloaks!

"Well, shall we begin, gentlemen?" The bald prisoner asked mockingly.

"Any time you pansies are ready." His partner sneered as he took out some kind of sharp weapon. It was too vague to properly make out what it was - but maybe a shiv? This inmate had hair. Too much hair in fact. All over the body.

Harry didn't bother describing their appearance rather than the obvious since they weren't important enough in his eyes. Though they shall be called Baldy and Hairy respectively within the sacred mind of Harry.

... How confusing. Hairy and Harry.

The Creep's teeth chattered together as he stuttered out incoherently

Both prisoners stared blankly at The Creep before they turned to Harry as if he bloody knew what the hell his retard of a partner was saying. Did Harry look like a fucking dictionary or translator to them? Did it look like he spoke stutter-ese?

Spoiler alert.

HE DOESN'T KNOW HOW TO SPEAK FUCKING STUTTER-ESE!

The two inmates then glared fiercely at the stuttering fool, causing the idiot to squeak timidly, thoroughly intimidated, before they turned to Harry.

Harry himself merely ignored the looks he was receiving. He had seen better death glares when he was a kid. Courtesy of his most favorite Professor.

"We're already damn ready, shit heads." Harry announced, uncaring about if his partner was really ready or not. "Come at us already, you pieces of undigested diarrhea."

They both let out a battle cry as they charged at Harry, their eyes blinded by rage focused solely upon his person, mostly due to Harry's words (unintentional provocation). Harry grinned. His blood was singing with the desire to kill. Who was Harry to deny? Besides, the two were more useful dead than alive.

* * *

**_Marvolo's POV_**

Marvolo's match was rather anti-climatic in his opinion - ended within the span of a few seconds actually. It was simply him repeatedly stabbing his little hidden dagger into the man's chest cavity. Wasn't all that exciting actually. Marvolo simply ran behind of the man with unparalleled speed and stabbed him a few times.

The prisoner obviously had no time to react since he didn't see Marvolo's movement. It was as if he suddenly teleported behind of the buffed prisoner.

A second later? Wet gurgling was heard as the man dropped to the ground, slowly drowning in his own blood.

If anyone was wondering, Marvolo had stabbed the prisoner at three spots. The heart, and the lungs. A sure kill, since there was a slight chance that the prisoner had a medical condition where his heart was situated at the right side, so stabbing both the lungs would guarantee that the man would surely die via drowning.

A human can survive after their organs are punctured, however, if their breathing will result in drowning, they could not possibly fight for long, even if they try by the sheer power of will and determination

As he has previously stated. A sure win without immediate medical aid.

Marvolo smiled sharply as he flicked the blood off of his blade, and hid it inside the soles of his boots. He made his way back to his temporary allies as someone (shakily) announced that he was the winner.

Ah... Victory. How dull. It didn't satisfy his craving for bloodshed at all.

He sighed softly under his breath as he rejoined his allies, the two kids looking at him with awe whilst the other two had stepped back cautiously. Not even a day has passed and he has already missed his brat. Hopefully, Harry won't be slacking off without Marvolo there to _guide_ him.

There would be... _consequences_ otherwise.

* * *

**_Harry's POV_**

The sudden itchiness inside his nose made Harry pause to sneeze. That was all it took for the two attacking fuckers to take advantage of the situation where previously, all they could sadly do was tire themselves with trying to hit the nimble Wizard.

Baldy managed to get a hold of his forearm, resulting in Harry getting pulled to the hard chest of his enemy. He gave a full body shudder at the closeness, disgusted at having his personal space be invaded without his consent.

Unable to escape the overly muscular arms of his captor - because seriously, Unspeakable here - Harry became limp, only shuddering once in a while as he felt the inmate's breathe on his cloaked nape. Baldy must've thought he had given up, seeing as to how the inmate was currently laughing and gloating over his victory.

The other inmate, Hairy, stepped closer with a crudely made shiv in hand. The two buff men shared a smirk, and before Harry could react the weapon has punctured one of Harry's lungs.

Harry shuddered as he felt his blood rising up his esophagus and accumulating within his mouth, leaving him with a metallic tang that was all too familiar to him. He all but spat the red liquid out, unbothered that some had dribbled down his chin and mentally bemoaning how hard it would be to wash the damn blood out of his beloved cloak - even with the help of Magic.

As if Harry was being underestimated, Hairy pulled the shiv out of his torso, just to stab him once more at his other side as if relishing in this moment, before Baldy released his hold and dropped Harry. He landed on the floor with a thump, causing dust particles to jump.

Harry just laid there, not quite in any mood to move. He was all too happy at being released and having his beloved personal space back to bother. He wasn't all too worried since he could already feel his wounds closing if the itchiness was any indication. Whilst he was debating with himself whether or not he should just continue to play dead or intervene, his creepy current partner's squeaky voice was heard.

The arrogance was replaced by fear as the man landed on his bottom, a suspiciously wet spot in between his legs, much to Harry's repugnance. The two inmates threw their heads back and cackled at the sight.

"This is just too easy, big bro!" Hairy snickered as he played with his bloodied shiv, throwing it up in the air before catching the sharp weapon with no difficulty. It showed how used he was to the weapon.

"This year Hunters' applicants are weak. Did the standards drop?" Baldy taunted, perhaps to the administrator of the prison tower. "Maa, whatever. All I care about is that our sentence will reduce by fifty years after killing this guy here. No hard feelings, eh?" The man laughed mockingly when The Creep whimpered and begged to be spared.

"Huh!?" Hairy snarled his face only a few inches away from the cowering Creep. "Spare you!? You're the most pathetic applicant I've ever seen! And I've seen a lot! This is a death match, stupid! Now be quiet while we slaughter you. Man, a few more years and we're outta this place, big bro!"

"Yes, little bro. Let's end this already."

Uh oh... On one hand, Harry was bloody tempted to let the inmates kill his weakling of a partner, but on the other hand, Tom would be furious (and disappointed with him, which was worst) if Harry were to fail the exams just because he did not do anything to prevent his loss. The Dark Lord knew better than to think that a wound or two would prevent Harry from winning.

With an annoyed sigh, he tapped a finger on the ground, completely unnoticed by all since they were busy. Not that he mind, it was better. Harry hummed quietly to himself and soon, decided that a level 1 minion would be more than enough to handle these two jokers.

Just as he had thought of that, a skeletal hand suddenly shot up from the ground a few feet in front of the three idiots, disregarding the fact that the ground was concrete. Everybody in the room apart from Harry, as if stopped by time, could only stare in horror as a skeletal figure clawed its way until it was standing firmly without anything aiding it.

With a mental command, the skeleton shot forward, its hands stretched out as if wanting to claw the three humans into minced meat. The three screamed with pure terror as they scrambled to distance themselves away from the abomination.

His minion didn't even turn its head to Creep's direction, focusing its empty sockets entirely onto the two inmates who were running away shouting about the undead.

As soon as they were close enough for Harry to reach, he moved. The two buff men didn't know what had hit them. They had immediately blacked out, after all.

Everything was silent. Nobody dared to speak. Not the Creep, nor the administrator and his two goons that were stalking Harry and the Creep through his monitors.

The moment of silence was broken when Harry shook his arms. They were quite numb after he had clothesline the two idiots with Magic induced strength. And mind, he hated inducing his muscles with Magic. It broke his limits and causes him numbness or pain afterward.

Harry crouched down, checking if they were faking it, and nodded to himself in smug approval. The two had had their throats crushed and neck broken, and were asphyxiating in their unconscious state. They would be dead in a minute or less.

Tom would be damn proud of him if he were here.

A thump brought Harry out of his state of accomplishment. He deadpanned at the Creep, who was foaming at the mouth with the whites of his eyes clearly showing his state of unconscious.

"Well... Drag the fucking burden behind of us. I've no fucking time to wait around for him to take his own bloody sweet time out of unicorn and rainbow land."

His minion saluted, and soon, the brooding Necromancer and his loyal skeletal pet continued on their journey.

It took only a few minutes before Harry completely forgot about his supposed partner, who was pitifully being dragged by his ankles mercilessly on the cold rough floor, leaving a small trail of blood behind.

How fucking anticlimactic and boring that fight was; was all he thought as he stuffed his hands into his cloak's pockets to keep warm.

* * *

_**Marvolo's POV**_

Marvolo was rubbing his temples furiously as if warding off an enormous headache away, as he witnesses the idiotic adult he called his teammate make yet another intentional blunder, and forcing them to prolong their victory.

Just watching the man was enough for Marvolo to feel lethargic.

Their current opponent was obviously a woman. And yet, Leorio was being a perverted old man and feeling up the bint to 'prove his point' that 'he' was a man and not a woman.

Judging by that goofy smile and perverted giggling, Marvolo was sure that the man was enjoying himself immensely. There went their 10 hours. Now their team was left with 50 fewer hours to escape this prison. Great. Just great.

"If Leorio loses the next wager, the overall score will be 2-2. And that would be bad." The blonde spoke with a grave tone.

And furthermore... The idiot was talking out loud. Marvolo withholds a sigh and tuned everything out. The outcome was plain for all to see. Leorio would lose this round, and then the last match would determine everything.

Hopefully, Killua would not disappoint him as well. As much of a Dark Lord Marvolo was, he still hated disposing of children. Especially talented ones. He could not guarantee everyone's safety if they caused him to fail this exam, however.

Never in his life has he failed in anything, and he would not be starting now.

Gon suddenly seemed to brighten up. "Leorio! Why don't you bet if you're still in your teens or not?"

Hah? Obviously, Leorio had passed his teenhood long ago.

"Come on, Gon!" Leorio shouted in indignant as he crossed his arms. "I don't look that old! I'm clearly a teenager!"

Marvolo almost slipped. What!? A teenager!? H-how was that possible!? Leorio was clearly in his late twenties at best! No, wait. Calm down. If Marvolo's precious person still looked to be in his late teens when he was actually in his forties, who's to say that there won't be another possibility for an opposite?

But wait... If that was so, why didn't Leorio wager that!? Argh, what an idiot! Goodness...

He pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation as the round continued. He gave up. Marvolo just couldn't be bothered. Leorio wasn't someone Marvolo would want in his company for any prolong amount of time, lest he was to be infected by stupidity. If Harry's blunt attitude was contagious, Marvolo would not disregard the possibility that stupidity was the same.

He let out another inaudible sigh. Perhaps Marvolo shouldn't have been too hasty. He should've allowed Kurapika to fight the first battle. The second and third were easy enough for any other of his teammates to engage. This one, however, was where Marvolo would shine best.

He was a politician more than a fighter, so it was obvious that mental and word games would not work on him. He was their best chance against this woman's silver tongue.

Once again, he just couldn't help but want Harry to be here. It would've been much easier since two wins would surely be guaranteed.

He focused back when it was time for the next match, and as he had predicted, Leorio had lost. Now they were left with less than ten hours of time remaining.

Killua walked casually forward, his body language showing how unstressed he was even in this situation. It was as if nothing could phase him. Marvolo relaxed his clenched fists. No, it wouldn't do any good to lose control. His Magic would wipe out the whole tower, and that was a big no-no.

He released all of his pent up anger towards Leorio in a single breath. Marvolo's eyes turned calculative as he focused onto Killua. Don't disappoint him, brat.

"-sided massacre. I have no interest in the exam or any offer of amnesty. I just want to hear your screams." The last and final inmate stated, his eyes showing how much he wanted to kill.

"Is that so? Okay." Killua replied almost cutely. "Then the loser is the one who dies. A death match, to put it simply."

"Yes... That's right... I'll tear your body apart. Bit by bit... And I'll enjoy hearing-"

Killua moved swiftly, cutting off whatever it was the inmate had wanted to say.

"W-what...? What is this feeling? I feel... cold..." The inmate turned to Killua, who was holding something soaked in blood.

Marvolo smiled. A sharp predatory smile of pride.

"T-that's mine. Giv-ve it... back..." The man soon dropped dead, a hand still outstretched as if wanting to take back his heart.

Killua granted the dead man just that. The boy crouched and placed the heart on the corpse's hand before he stood up and grinned at Gon.

"Okay. That's 3 wins. We pass, right?"

"Yeah, you win." The only woman in the area spoke, looking a little pale.

"By the way, you must be itching for some action since you didn't get to do anything but talk with the old man. Want to give it a go? Play with me a little?" Killua smirked, looking much like a cat toying with its prey.

The female inmate swallowed nervously, looking far too pale to be healthy. "I'll pass, but thank you for the offer."

"Ok then. Your lost."

Killua turned and walked back to them.

"What is he...?" Leorio gulped out.

"Oh yeah. That's right. You guys didn't know." Gon suddenly spoke up. "Killua comes from a family of elite assassins."

"Eh!? A-assassin!?"

Oh? Interesting! Far too interesting! Marvolo's eyes glinted. And Gon said a family of elite assassins. Perhaps... Killua is a Zoldyck? If that were so, Marvolo may have hit gold.

He wanted Killua. He wanted Killua's family. He craved their knowledge and power.

"I'm back." Killua greeted with a carefree tone as if he was just back from a relaxed walk. Leorio meeped, which caused the boy to turn to the teen in confusion. "What is it?"

"Uh... Good work!" The teen that Marvolo thought was an adult said with fake cheer.

Marvolo hid an amused smirk behind his hand. Though he would never admit it, their reactions to Gon's innocent remark entertained him.

They were then guided to a small room he dubbed as The Torturous Waiting Room. Marvolo sat on one of the couches and closed his eyes. Time to meditate, and perhaps he could do some memory sorting whilst they wait for two days to pass.

Damn Leorio.

* * *

**_Harry's POV_**

"Hari, applicant number 304, is the fourth to pass. Total time; Thirteen hours and seven minutes."

Harry blinked at the announcement as he entered the circular chamber. He glanced around, searching for the familiar figure of Tom. His left eyebrow twitched when Tom wasn't spotted.

Don't fucking tell him that Harry rushed for nothing!?

"Cacao, applicant number 137, is the fifth to pass. Total time; Thirteen hours and seven minutes."

Ah, so his creepy partner's name was Cacao. What a lame name!

Harry's skeletal minion dropped the Creep just at the door and hid underground immediately. It was to make it look like his partner had dropped from exhaustion rather than someone (or something) just letting go of him.

Everyone paid the fifth applicant no mind, which was good since if they did, they would've seen Harry's minion before it could've buried itself. Wouldn't have wanted to give away his powers to any of his rivals early in this game.

Perhaps he should rest whilst he could. Besides, there were no evil sun rays and no sadistic old fossil here.

* * *

**TBC**

I have no excuses to say about the constant change of POV. It just happened. I'll not make it a habit, though.

I thank those who had taken their time to review. It really made me happy. And brought me motivation. Lots of motivation. So if you want me to update faster, it'll be wise of you to review! Muahahahha!

Also, I thank everyone for answering my little question at the bottom of each chapter. I'm always curious as to other people's thoughts, so I couldn't resist putting it there. I'm also glad that you all enjoyed my omake. Perhaps I'll write more of Harry's childhood interaction with Tom in the form of an omake.

Oh, and to answer one of my reviewer's question. I don't plan on splitting Killua and Gon early just or leaving anyone out because I didn't put their names as the main characters. There's only the option to put four, so I placed only the ones that will make a more frequent appearance rather than those who won't as much. Just to clear the confusion.

Another thing. Don't worry, my dear precious readers! There won't be a threesome. Tom's a possessive bastard as it is. I doubt he'll share anything of his.

**Question for today:**

Who's your favorite Chimera Ant?  
Mine's Shaiapouf! He's beautiful! And I love his personality.

**_UnknownRegion_**


End file.
